TWO  YOUNG  HOMESTEADERS 

BY  MRS,  THEODORA  R,  JENNESS 


r:mo.  Cloth,  Illustrated,  «1.25 


"  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE  "  is  a  sequel 
to  the  above  book 

LOTHROP  PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  BOSTON, 


PIOKEE 
AND   HER   PEOPLE 

A    RANCH    AND     TEPEE    STORY 


BY 

THEODORA    R.   JENNESS 

Author  of 
"  Two  YOUNG  HOMESTEADERS,"  and  others 


Bfogtratrti  bg  fHaria  E.  &trk 


BOSTON 

LOTHROP    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 
1894 


COPYRIGHT,  1894, 

BY 
LOTHROP  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE. 

I.  PKAIRIE  TELLS  THE  STORY      ...  1 

II.  A  WILD  YOUNG  SQUAW.         .         .        .  13 

III.  COLD  BLAST  AND  FAUQUA        ...  21 

IV.  THE  RANSOM 30 

V.  THE  MOONLIGHT  RIDE     ....  41 

VI.  THE  SHADOW  GIRL 50 

VII.  THE  HOMESTEAD  CLUB'S  REUNION.         .  61 

VIII.  THE  CHARIOT 69 

IX.  THE  WOODEN  WEDDING  ....  75 

X.  THE  BLACK  HAWK  INDIAN      ...  88 

XL  IN  THE  MORNING 98 

XII.  AT  THE  PECAN  CAMP       ....  104 

XIII.  BEFORE  THE  COUNCIL       .         .        .         .  115 

XIV.  AN  ESCAPED  LUNATIC      .         .        .        .  122 
XV.  THE  GHOST  DANCE 128 

XVI.  THE  YOUNG  DANCER'S  DOWNFALL  .         .  137 

XVII.  NAOPOPE'S  FAME      .         ...        .  148 

XVIII.  UP'S  FREAK  OF  INDUSTRY       .        .        .  159 

XIX.  THE  LOST  FOUND 166 

XX.  LETTERS    .  173 


CONTENTS. 

XXI.  THE  SURPRISING  LOAD     .         .        .        .  184 

XXII.  PIOKEE  FINDS  THE  KEY.         ...  191 

XXIII.  THE  BOXES 197 

XXIV.  To  THE  RESCUE 208 

XXV.  BRUNO'S  DISCOVERY          .         .         .         .  214 

XXVI.  THE  HISTORICAL  BABY     .         .        .         .224 

XXVII.  A  NEW  FRIEND 229 

XXVIII.  THE  TRIMLY- APRONED  MAIDS          .         .  241 

XXIX.  THE  ENTERTAINMENT  COMMITTEE  .         .  254 

XXX.  THE  MOKOHOKOS 262 

XXXI.  DEPARTED  GLORY     .         .        .        ...  271 

XXXII.  THE  TRUE  HEART 282 

XXXIII.  THE  DOUBLE  WEDDING   .  298 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"Are  you  a  runaway?"  he  asked     .         .         Frontis. 

Piokee  and  Floy  —  "  Just  for  fun"         .         .        .  17 

Piokee  and  her  violin        .         .         .         .         .         .  37 

"  I  treat  Piokee  good"  said  Fauqua  icistfully         .  45 

"Oh!  you  hateful,  hateful  thing!"  she  ejaculated.  77 

Piokee  took  the  small  hands  between  her  own.         .  107 

Piokee  and  Dr.  Whistler  watching  the   Ghost  Dance  139 

Piokee  read  the  letters  through  and  through    .         .  175 

Piokee  took  off  the  topmost  layer  of  the  box   .         ,  199 

She  was  kneeling  at  the  feet  of  Dr.  Whistler  .         .  217 

The  cooking  school 249 

"  Piokee,  there  is  something  I  wish  to  say "     .         .  285 


PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PRAIKIE    TELLS    THE    STORY. 

JOHN  and  Prairie  Bowers  were  to  have  a  wooden 
wedding  at  their  ranch. 

Prairie  was  preparing  the  feast,  assisted  by  her 
willing  helper,  Sally  Spratt. 

Piokee's  calm  dark  eyes  were  bent  upon  the  work 
of  browning  almonds  in  the  skillet.  She  was  stir- 
ring the  nuts  with  gentle  shakes,  keeping  them  on  a 
ceaseless  hop  above  the  fire. 

Miriam,  a  charming  morsel  of  humanity,  four 
years  old,  was  seated  in  her  high-chair  by  the  pastry 
table,  joining  in  the  cheerful  bustle  with  supreme  de- 
light. Both  tiny  fists  were  filled  with  dough,  and 
spread  before  her  on  the  table  was  a  wide  array  of 
patty-cakes,  as  yet  unbaked  —  her  contribution  to 
the  feast. 

i 


2  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  Sally,  is  the  oven  right  to  roast  the  turkeys  to 
a  charm?"  asked  Prairie,  as  she  laid  the  first  of 
several  dozen  lady-fingers  on  the  buttered  paper. 

Collapsing  beside  the  range  and  opening  the  oven 
door,  Sally  stared  with  fixed  attention  at  the  pair 
of  big  fat  turkeys  roasting  side  by  side. 

"  Yes,  'tis ;  bakin'  like  a  house  a-fire  ;  yes,  'tis." 

"  But  we  don't  want  it  to  bake  like  a  house 
a-fire,"  said  Prairie,  wheeling  round  with  much  con- 
cern. "  Gently,  very  gently,  is  the  rule  for  fowls," 
and  dropping  down  by  Sally's  side  she  anxiously 
peered  into  the  oven. 

"Oh!  they're  browning  very  nicely  —  in  fact, 
de-lic-iously !  "  with  a  girlish  little  gurgle  of  delight 
as  she  sniffed  the  savory  odor  from  the  oven. 
"  Dear  me !  that  was  a  false  alarm  that  fairly  set 
my  heart  on  the  jump." 

"  Yes,  'twas,"  serenely  confessed  Sally  ;  "  a  hue 
an'  cry  'bout  nothin' ;  yes,  'twas." 

She  left  the  fowls  to  sputter  in  the  oven,  and 
began  to  pluck  the  feathers  from  a  wild  goose  she 
had  scalded  at  the  sink. 

"  Now  for  the  next,"  said  Prairie,  returning  to  her 
lady-fingers,  her  rosy  face  aglow  with  zeal  to  make 
the  wedding  preparations  a  complete  success.  "I 
hope  that  cranberry  jelly  won't  run  down  into  a 
limp,  disgraceful  pool,  instead  of  towering  proudly 
up  as  we  have  planned." 


PRAIRIE    TELLS   THE    STORY.  3 

"No,  'twon't,"  said  Sally,  stretching  out  her  arm 
to  spring  a  latch  and  show  the  contents  of  a  safe 
within  her  reach.  "  Eisin'  up  as  peart  as  ever  ; 
yes,  'tis." 

Upon  one  shelf  a  mound  of  ruby  jelly  reared  itself 
aloft  and  shed  a  brilliant  glow  around  the  cut-glass 
dish  in  which  it  stood. 

"  Well,  that  is  lovely,"  Prairie  said,  with  an  ad- 
miring nod.  "  Cranberry  jelly  isn't  such  an  easy 
thing  to  make  just  right  that  one  can  feel  exactly 
safe  till  it  is  firmly  set." 

"  No,  'tain't,"  was  Sally's  ready  answer. 

Now  appeared  the  brisk  young  ranchman  on  the 
busy  scene. 

"  Prairie,  I've  some  welcome  news  for  you,"  said 
he.  "  Whom  should  I  meet  in  town  this  morning 
but  Dr.  Whistler,  who  had  just  come  in  on  the  train." 

"  0,  John !  that  is  the  best  news  I've  heard  for 
many  a  day,"  said  Prairie  joyfully.  "  I  feared  that 
I)r.  Whistler  would  be  too  busy  with  his  patients 
down  there  in  the  Indian  Territory  to  accept  our 
wedding  invitation.  He  has  come  for  that,  of 
course." 

"  Yes,"  said  John,  "  and  he  is  also  on  his  way  to 
Washington  on  business  for  his  tribe.  You  know 
a  bill  is  pending  for  the  Government  to  buy  another 
big  slice  of  the  Indian  Territory  to  be  turned 
over  to  white  settlers  ?  The  present  Oklahoma  is  a 


4  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

mere  garden  patch  compared  to  the  extensive  tract 
Uncle  Sam  now  has  his  eye  upon." 

"  Well,"  said  Prairie,  "  highly  as  I  esteem  him  in 
most  respects,  I  must  say  I  am  ashamed  of  our  re- 
vered uncle  for  his  greediness  in  swallowing  the 
Indian  possessions.  He  takes  whole  reservations  at 
one  mouthful,  and  doesn't  seem  in  the  least  to 
mind  that  he's  astonishing  the  world." 

"That  is  an  undeniable  fact,  though  rather 
strongly  expressed,"  laughed  John.  "Dr.  Whistr 
ler  will  be  detained  in  town  on  business  a  day  or 
two.  He  sent  his  compliments  to  '  Mrs.  Sparkling 
Eyes  '  and  will  come  out  with  Kearn  and  Rose  when 
Ebenezer  brings  them  from  the  train  to-morrow 
afternoon." 

"  Grand  old  Whistler ! "  burst  out  Prairie  en- 
thusiastically. "  I  can't  begin  to  tell  you,  John, 
how  proud  I  am  of  him.  He  has  turned  out  nobly, 
even  though  he's  not  in  Congress,  as  fourteen  years 
ago  I  hoped  he  would  be  by  this  time.  That  he 
has  had  to  stay  outside  is  the  fault  of  our  Govern- 
ment for  keeping  its  heel  on  the  downtrodden 
Indians  so  long,"  she  added,  with  an  air  of  wise  con- 
viction that  amused  her  husband. 

The  first  batch  of  almonds  was  now  ready  to  be 
salted,  and  Piokee  poured  them  on  a  plate,  and  sit- 
ting down  by  Miriam  began  to  shell  more  nuts. 

"  I  must  make  thwee  patty-cakes  much  bigger  'an 


PRAIRIE    TELLS   THE    STORY.  5 

'e  west,"  planned  Miriam.  "  One  for  Aunt  Wose, 
one  for  Uncle  Kearn,  an'  'e  biggest  one  of  all  for 
my  dear  Doctor,  'cause  he  bwought  my  Dewdwop 
pick-a-back  in  a  bag  to  mamma  when  she  was  a  wee 
papoose.  You  tell  'e  stowy,  mamma ;  it's  so  inter- 
westing  I  do  love  to  hear  it." 

"  Bless  you,  little  one,"  said  Prairie,  "  I've  told  it 
so  often  you  must  know  it  word  for  word.  But  I 
like  to  tell  it  more  and  more.  No  great  wonder, 
though  ;  for  treasures  like  our  Dewdrop  don't  go 
riding  every  day  on  the  back  of  a  young  Indian 
chief,  to  be  dropped  off  as  a  welcome  gift  into  a 
lonesome  little  claim  girl's  arms."  Here  Mamma 
Prairie,  as  Piokee  called  her  foster-mother,  gave  the 
bonny  red-brown  maid  of  her  adoption  a  very  lov- 
ing smile. 

There  was  no  record  of  Piokee's  birthday,  but 
from  the  annals  of  her  babyhood  she  was  about 
sixteen. 

Her  mother  may  have  had  a  trace  of  white  blood 
from  some  generations  back,  else  how  explain  the 
curves  and  dimples  of  the  daughter's  finely  molded 
face,  the  serious  little  mouth  that  kept  demure 
guard  of  pretty  teeth,  the  eyes,  large,  clear  and 
soft,  whose  dark  calm  gave  no  hint  of  the  morose- 
ness  and  unrest  that  blight  her  race  ? 

By  no  means  talkative  was  our  young  Indian 
girl,  but  at  times  she  sparkled  with  enchanting  mis- 


6  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

chief  that  dispelled  her  gravity  and  made  her  brightly 
winsome.  A  reposeful  voice  and  peaceful  manner 
indicated  the  content  that  filled  Piokee's  life.  She 
was  not  given  to  outbursts  of  affection,  but  for  those 
whose  care  had  been  a  shelter  since  her  friendless 
infancy  her  devotion  was  unstinted. 

Blue-eyed  Miriam  with  her  floating  golden  hair 
and  dainty  exacting  ways  she  regarded  as  a  marvel 
of  perfection.  The  bewitching  tot  did  not  object 
to  being  placed  upon  a  pedestal  as  Piokee's  ideal  of  a 
model  child,  and  adorned  her  high  position  with  be- 
coming grace,  considering  she  had  been  petted  by 
adoring  relatives  all  her  life. 

"  I  wasn't  so  old  as  Dewdrop  is  now  when  I  helped 
your  Uncle  Kearn  hold  down  a  claim  while  your 
grandpapa  went  away  to  earn  food  and  clothes  for 
us.  A  drouth  had  spoiled  our  crops  that  year  and 
we  were  very  poor,"  began  Prairie,  gratifying  Miri- 
am's wish  to  hear  the  oft-repeated  story  of  how 
Dewdrop  came  to  them.  "  There  was  no  one  but 
myself  to  keep  house,  for  we  were  motherless  — 
your  Uncle  Kearn  and  I.  Your  great-aunt  Abigail, 
who  afterward  came  West  and  settled  on  the  claim 
next  ours,  was  then  living  in  the  East. 

"  "We  hadn't  many  friends  on  that  lonesome  claim. 
Your  papa,  who  of  course  was  a  fine-looking,  agree- 
able boy,  came  over  from  the  station  twelve  miles 
off,  every  now  and  then,  and  our  nearest  neighbor, 


PRAIRIE    TELLS    THE    STORY.  7 

a  nice  old  crazy  gentleman  named  Mr.  Welch,  used 
to  visit  us  quite  often.  Then  there  was  Miss  Sally 
Spratt,  and  Dr.  Whistler  who  lived  not  far  away. 

"  Whistler  was  then  an  uncivilized  Indian  boy, 
but  he  was  bright  and  manly,  and  I  thought  it  a 
pity  that  he  didn't  even  know  when  P  was  standing 
on  its  head,  or  that  the  world  is  round." 

"  Why  don't  you  ever  tell  about  'e  pwetty  name  ?" 
asked  Miriam.  "  Papa  always  has  to  tell  me  'at. 
Whistler  oost  to  call  you  Sparkling  Eyes." 

Prairie  only  laughed,  and  went  on  with  her  story. 
"  Then,  too,  Whistler  was  quite  rich  for  an  Indian 
boy,  and  I  feared  if  he  remained  so  ignorant  he 
would  be  cheated  out  of  all  the  land  and  ponies  his 
shrewd  old  father  left  him.  So  I  undertook  to  teach 
him  something.  And  a  dreadful  time  I  had  of  it. 
But  I  worked  away  the  best  I  could,  and  coaxed  and 
scolded  him  into  learning  his  lessons,  and  now  he's 
Dr.  Whistler,  with  a  comfortable  income  from  his 
property  which  he  is  generously  using  in  his  work 
among  his  people." 

"  Oh  !  now  you've  come  to  'e  'nagerie.  Lots  and 
lots  of  pwitty  animals,  and  a  fwightful  little  wattle- 
snake,"  said  Miriam,  who  knew  the  story  all  by  heart. 

"  Yes,  I  had  collected  a  menagerie  of  small  wild 
animals  that  I  was  very  fond  of.  Whistler  helped 
me  hunt  food  for  them,  and  I  had  my  hands  full 
taking  care  of  them  and  Uncle  Kearn.  But  for  all 


8  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

that  I  was  sometimes  lonesome,  and  I  often  wished 
I  had  a  little  sister." 

"  Now  my  Dewdwop's  coming,"  anticipated  Miriam, 
with  breathless  interest.  "  On«  day  Whistler  came 
pwancing  up  —  you  tell  it,  mamma." 

"Yes,  one  day  Whistler  came  prancing  up  on 
horseback  with  Dewdrop  on  his  back,  snugly  tucked 
into  a  bag  —  all  but  her  head,  and  that  was  covered 
with  a  blanket.  I  thought  it  was  an  animal  for  my 
menagerie,  and  Whistler  made  me  guess  what  it 
could  be." 

"  Oh,  oh ! "  cried  Miriam,  as  she  clapped  her 
hands  and  squeezed  a  patty-cake  with  wild  delight. 
"  Didn't  you  feel  tickled,  Dewdwop,  hiding  in  'e  bag 
while  mamma  guessed  you  were  a  little  bear  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  eight  months  old,  and  didn't  know 
what  a  funny  joke  I  was  helping  Dr.  Whistler  play," 
replied  the  heroine  of  the  infantile  exploit,  smiling 
demurely  while  she  cracked  a  nut  and  dropped  out 
the  kernel. 

"  The  poor  abused  midget,"  resumed  Prairie,  "  was 
strapped  to  a  board  inside  the  bag,  and  her  face  was 
not  so  clean  as  our  dainty  Dewdrop  now  loves  to 
have  it." 

"Oh!  how  dweadful;  but  you  couldn't  help  it 
and  you  needn't  feel  one  bit  ashamed,"  said  Miriam, 
and  she  gave  Piokee's  face  a  pitying  pat  that  left  a 
funny  daub  of  dough  on  the  tip  of  her  clear-cut  nose. 


PKAIRIE    TELLS    THE    STORY.  9 

"Well,  I  adopted  the  cunning  waif,  as  Whistler 
said  she  had  no  parents,  and  called  her  Dewdrop, 
which  is  the  meaning  of  her  Indian  name,  Piokee. 
I  brought  her  up  the  best  I  could  with  the  help  of 
Mother  Grabendike,  a  dear  Quaker  lady,  who  had 
been  a  friend  to  me  and  who  kept  our  Dewdrop 
four  years  while  I  was  away  at  school.  And  here 
she  is,  a  credit  to  the  family."  Prairie  beamed 
again  on  Piokee,  who  smiled  back  and  by  a  sudden 
impulse  seized  her  foster-mother's  hand  and  rubbed 
her  cheek  against  it  in  a  soft  caress. 

"  But,  dear  me  !  I'm  done  with  the  lady-fingers, 
and  it's  time  to  stuff  the  goose,"  heeded  Prairie, 
"  so  I  must  cut  the  story  short. 

"  Your  lovely  Aunt  Rose,  whom  your  papa  called 
Sweetbrier  —  because  she  had  some  pretty,  willful 
ways  that  he  compared  to  naughty  little  thorns  — 
once  came  to  see  us  and  was  carried  down  into  a 
deep  creek  by  a  fiery  pony  she  was  riding.  Whist- 
ler saved  her  life  and  also  fished  Uncle  Kearn  and 
me  out  of  the  watery  deep,  for  of  course  we  both 
plunged  in  to  rescue  her.  We  were  escorting  Aunt 
Rose  home  to  Grandmamma  Bowers's  where  she 
was  visiting.  We  had  left  the  baby  with  Miss  Sally 
Spratt,  who  was  very  fond  of  her. 

"  A  bad  man,  who,  I  grieve  to  say,  was  our  honest 
Ebenezer's  father,  tried  to  jump  our  claim,  but 
failed.  He  robbed  a  railway  train  and  went  to 


10  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

prison,  where  he  died  before  his  term  expired.  He 
had  a  swarm  of  very  naughty  boys  we  called  the 
Yellowjackets,  they  were  so  much  like  troublesome 
wasps.  Three  of  them  especially,  were  simply  dread- 
ful. I'm  happy  to  relate,  however,  that  Daniel  has 
turned  out  to  be  a  very  respectable  young  preacher, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  including  his  fel- 
low Yellowjackets.  Jacob  is  now  a  Choctaw  squaw- 
man  in  the  Indian  Territory,  and  if  they  have  the 
ghost  dance  there,  as  they  are  having  in  Dakota, 
I'm  very  sure  he  will  be  foremost  in  the  mischief." 

With  this  conclusion  Prairie  turned  her  attention 
to  the  goose,  which  Sally  held  dangling  and  dripping 
at  her  side,  so  absorbed  was  she  in  the  revival  of 
the  old  memories. 

Some  years  after  Mr.  Wilde  secured  the  claim 
that  Prairie  helped  "  hold  down,"  a  sudden  rise  in 
real  estate  enabled  him  to  sell  his  property  for  a 
very  high  price. 

Seized  with  the  same  speculative  spirit  that  at- 
tacked her  brother,  Aunt  Abigail  sold  her  farm 
adjoining  his  for  a  large  profit. 

John  and  Prairie  were  then  newly  married,  and 
were  waiting  to  settle  on  a  ranch  in  a  good  location. 
After  viewing  well  the  prospect,  Mr.  Wilde,  Aunt 
Abigail  and  John  bought  a  large  tract  of  land  in 
Southern  Kansas  near  the  Indian  Territory,  of  which 
each  took  one  third.  Prairie's  father  and  Aunt  Abi- 


PRAIRIE    TELLS    THE    STORY.  11 

gail  combined  to  make  one  home,  and  John  and 
Prairie  in  their  pleasant,  roomy  ranch  house  were 
their  nearest  neighbors. 

John's  mother  did  not  live  to  share  her  son's 
home,  into  which  she  would  have  been  most  fondly 
welcomed,  for  a  few  weeks  after  John  and  Prairie's 
marriage  she  had  a  sudden  illness  that  closed  her 
gentle  life.  Kearn  had  gone  through  college,  had 
married  Sweetbrier  Rose,  and  was  now  a  rising  law- 
yer in  a  thriving  young  city  of  the  State. 

Whistler  had  also  gained  an  education.  He  had 
taken  his  diploma  at  a  medical  college  of  repute, 
and  was  now  a  missionary  doctor  among  his  people 
in  the  Indian  Territory. 

"  The  eggs  have  given  out  and  the  chocolate 
cakes  are  not  frosted,"  said  Prairie  to  Piokee  shortly 
after  dinner.  "You  might  saddle  Chipmunk  and 
go  after  those  five  dozen  that  Priscilla  Winslow 
promised.  I  expected  Floy  would  bring  them  over, 
but  something  must  have  happened  to  prevent  her. 
You  can  stay  with  Floy  a  while.  Frosting  the 
cakes  will  be  the  last  work  of  the  day,  and  the  eggs 
will  not  be  needed  for  some  hours." 

It  was  a  delightful  afternoon  in  autumn.  Piokee 
was  rejoiced  to  take  a  ride  across  the  sunny  prairie 
and  through  the  squirrel-haunted  wood  to  Mr.  Win- 
slow' s,  and  Floy  was  a  lively  young  friend  whom 
she  dearly  loved  to  visit. 


12  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

Mr.  Winslow  was  a  minister  from  New  England 
who  preached  on  Sunday  at  the  schoolhouse  where 
his  daughter  Priscilla  taught  school  through  the 
week. 

The  Winslows  lived  on  a  farm,  and  Priscilla  had  a 
hennery  that  her  younger  sister,  Floy,  who  studied 
with  her  father,  cared  for  while  Priscilla  was  at 
school. 

Mounted  on  her  sleek  bay  pony,  Chipmunk, 
Piokee  rode  off  with  a  basket  on  her  arm.  She 
had  gone  about  half-way  to  Mr.  Winslow's  when 
she  espied  a  girlish  figure  on  a  large  black  horse 
racing  toward  her  at  a  reckless  pace  across  the 
prairie. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A   WILD   YOUNG   SQUAW. 

ON  meeting  Piokee  the  rider  jerked  her  horse's 
rein  and  checked  his  speed  with  such  a  sud- 
den lurch  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  have  bounded 
from  the  saddle ;  but  she  kept  her  seat  with  steady 
poise  and  laughing  unconcern. 

"  Well,  Dewdrop,  now  I've  met  you  I  must  stop 
the  race !  "  exclaimed  the  madcap  rider,  Floy  Win- 
slow.  "  You  see,  Bub  Merrill,  our  new  chore  boy, 
just  declared  I  couldn't  ride  over  to  your  house  in 
less  than  thirty  minutes  and  a  half.  I've  only  been 
—  let's  see  —  twelve  minutes  and  three  quarters, 
and  see  how  far  I  am  !  "  triumphantly  inspecting  a 
watch  she  had  brought  along  to  time  herself. 

Floy's  curly  yellow  hair  was  cut  short  and  parted 
at  the  side,  and  she  wore  a  sailor  hat,  a  shirt  waist 
and  a  reefer  jacket,  which  gave  her  the  appearance 
of  a  jolly,  handsome  boy. 

"  That  is  the  quickest  time  I  ever  knew  a  minis- 
is 


14  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

ter's  horse  to  make,"  replied  Piokee,  with  a  smile. 
"But  were  you  bringing  eggs  to  us?"  glancing  with 
much  apprehension  at  a  basket  perched  before  Floy 
on  the  saddle,  and  then  at  several  ominous  yellow 
streaks  oozing  down  her  short  blue  riding  skirt. 

"Yes,  here  they  are,"  said  Floy.  "Why,  some- 
thing must  have  happened  to  them ! "  uplifting  the 
basket  in  amazement.  "  Dear  me !  here  is  a  hole 
in  one  end  that  I  didn't  notice,  and  most  of  them 
have  slipped  out  on  the  way  and  the  rest  are 
mashed  to  jelly.  How  careless  I  have  been  to 
bounce  along  at  such  a  pace,  and  Mrs.  Bowers  with 
a  lot  of  wooden-wedding  cake  needing  to  be  frosted 
with  these  eggs.  0,  dear !  what  will  Priscilla  say  ?  " 

"Well,  you  didn't  mean  to  do  it,"  said  Piokee 
comfortingly.  "  Haven't  you  more  eggs  that  I  can 
get  if  I  go  back  with  you  ?" 

"  I  gathered  all  there  were  at  dinner  time,  but  I 
suspect  there  is  a  stolen  nest  or  two  up  in  the  hay- 
mow of  the  barn,  that  Bub  Merrill  might  search  if 
you  could  wait  for  him.  He's  very  slow,  but  pretty 
sure." 

Having  explained  that  she  had  ample  time  to 
await  Bub's  leisure  movements,  Piokee  pursued  her 
way  to  Mr.  Winslow's  with  Floy. 

"  Priscilla  pays  me  for  taking  care  of  the  hennery, 
and  I  shall  have  the  eggs  deducted  from  my  wages," 
said  Floy  conscientiously.  "  But  it  will  cripple  me 


A   WILD   YOUNG   SQUAW.  15 

in  money  matters,  for  eggs  are  twenty  cents  a  dozen 
now,"  she  added  with  a  rueful  laugh. 

"I  suppose  the  hennery  keeps  you  pretty  busy 
out  of  study  hours,"  Piokee  said. 

"Yes,  it  does.  Pris  thought  she'd  like  to  have 
spring  chickens  next  winter,  so  she's  set  the  incu- 
bator and  I  have  to  watch  the  lamp." 

"  That  must  be  a  dreadful  care,"  observed  Piokee, 
trembling  for  the  tender  lives  at  the  mercy  of  well- 
meaning,  but  careless  Floy. 

"  0,  dear !  there's  no  describing  it,"  sighed  Floy. 
"  So  much  depending  on  the  way  you  turn  a  wick. 
Too  far  up,  the  eggs  are  cooked;  too  far  down, 
they're  chilled  to  death.  Bub  Merrill  faithfully 
agreed  to  watch  the  lamp  while  I'm  away,  but  he 
has  such  a  mania  for  making  experiments  I'm  just 
afraid  he'll  try  to  find  out  how  much  heat  the  chicks 
could  stand  and  still  come  out  alive.  If  he  does, 
he'll  roast  them  in  the  shell  as  sure  as  fate." 

The  girls  rode  faster  and  soon  reached  the  hen- 
nery, where,  to  their  relief,  they  found  the  lamp 
burning  at  the  proper  temperature. 

Floy's  fear  of  Bub's  experiments  was  partly  real- 
ized, however,  for  he  had  pulled  the  egg  drawer 
out,  exposing  the  contents  to  a  perilous  draught  of 
air,  and  was  on  his  knees  peering  through  a  paper 
funnel  to  inspect  an  egg,  which  he  was  holding 
hazardously  near  the  lamplight. 


16          PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

"I'm  candlin'  'era  ter  see  if  they're  alive  an' 
well,"  said  he.  "  This  yer's  goin'  ter  hatch.  Kin 
see  him  squirmin'  in  the  shell.  But  this  yer's  bad. 
So's  this  yer.  An'  this  yer,"  holding  up  three  more. 
"  Am  afraid  you're  reck'nin'  on  a  lot  o'  chicks  that'll 
never  hatch,"  was  his  discouraging  announcement. 

"I  don't  believe  they're  far  enough  along  to 
squirm  yet,  and  you  must  be  only  guessing  whether 
they're  alive  or  not,"  was  Floy's  correct  surmise. 
"  There  !  now  you've  dropped  an  egg  —  though  to  be 
sure  that  happened  to  be  spoilt  —  and  you  mustn't 
touch  another  one,"  whereupon  she  promptly  shut 
the  drawer. 

"Hum!  'tain't  the  fust  egg  that's  been  smashed 
to-day,  I  reckin,"  Bub  retorted,  with  a  gleeful  glance 
at  Floy's  bespattered  skirt. 

"  Not  by  several  dozens,"  candidly  admitted  Floy. 
"  But  you  must  find  at  least  one  nest  brimful  of 
eggs  to  make  up  for  the  mischief  you  did  by  daring 
me  to  try  a  race  while  carrying  eggs  to  market." 

Bub  obediently  strolled  off  to  begin  the  hunt, 
while  Floy  gathered  all  the  new-laid  eggs  in  the 
hennery  for  Piokee's  basket. 

"I'm  glad  you  can  stay  a  while,"  said  she. 
"Papa's  holding  a  meeting  in  another  neighbor- 
hood this  afternoon,  and  except  Bub  Merrill  and 
myself  there  isn't  any  one  at  home  but  mamma, 
who  is  sleeping  off  a  headache  in  her  room,  and  my 


A   WILD    YOUNG   SQUAW.  19 

double  cousin  Ellery  Winslow  just  out  from  Boston 
this  week." 

"  Is  he  a  young  boy  ?  "  asked  Piokee. 

"  0,  no !  you'll  think  him  very  much  grown  up," 
said  Floy.  "  He's  a  Harvard  freshman,  but  his 
optic  nerve  has  given  out,  so  he's  dropped  his 
Greek  and  Latin  a  while,  and  is  taking  a  vacation. 
He  means  to  improve  his  time  while  out  of  college 
studying  the  Indian  question.  That  is  all  the 
fashion  now." 

"Well,"  said  Piokee,  "I'm  afraid  he'll  find  that 
far  more  trying  to  his  optic  nerve  than  working 
over  Greek  and  Latin.  My  people  have  a  long,  sad 
history,"  she  added  thoughtfully. 

"That  is  true,"  said  Floy,  growing  thoughtful 
too.  "  Ellery  is  an  Indian  rights  man.  He  has 
already  made  a  prisoner  of  himself  in  papa's  study, 
pondering  over  broken  treaties.  But  he  has  never 
seen  an  Indian,  to  speak  of,  and  I  don't  believe  he'd 
know  one  from  a  copper  statue.  You're  so  proud 
of  being  a  little  red  girl,  Dewdrop,  would  you  mind 
meeting  Ellery  and  showing  him  how  a  real  live 
Indian  looks  ?  " 

"  But  I've  no  feathers  in  my  hair.  I  should  dis- 
appoint him,"  said  Piokee,  with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  you  would,"  frankly  agreed  Floy, 
with  a  critical  eye  on  the  neat  little  tailor-made 
girl.  "  Of  course  he'd  like  you  better  if  you  were 


20  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

a  blanket  Indian.  Oh!  you  might  pretend  to  be 
one,  just  for  fun.  I've  got  a  lot  of  gorgeous  feathers 
that  our  roosters  shed.  You  might  unbraid  your 
hair  and  stick  them  straight  up  all  around  your 
head,  and  we've  a  bed  blanket  of  the  brightest  red, 
that  you  could  wrap  round  yourself." 

Floy's  mischievous  plan  was  irresistible,  and  al- 
most before  she  knew  it  Piokee  was  carrying  it  out. 
Floy  smuggled  the  feathers  and  blanket  from  the 
house,  and  the  grain-room  of  the  hennery  was  made 
the  dressing-room. 

Presently  a  wild-looking  young  squaw  left  the 
hennery  and  sought  a  latticed  corner  of  the  front 
piazza  to  wait  for  Ellery  Win  slow,  whom  Floy  con- 
ducted from  the  study. 


CHAPTER  III. 

COLD   BLAST   AND    FAUQUA. 

ELLERY  was  a  straight,  slim  youth  of  nineteen, 
with  blond  curly  hair  like  Floy's.  Indeed,  if 
he  had  been  her  brother  he  could  hardly  have  re- 
sembled her  more  closely.  Somewhat  formal  of 
speech  was  Ellery,  but  he  had  a  pleasant  voice  and 
a  gentlemanly  manner.  On  account  of  his  affected 
optic  nerve  he  wore  a  pair  of  gold-rimmed  glasses 
which  gave  him  quite  a  scholarly  air. 

"  Ellery,  here's  an  Indian  girl  you'll  be  glad  to 
meet,"  was  Floy's  introduction  of  her  cousin  to  the 
statuesque  little  figure  in  the  gay  red  blanket. 

"Ah!  is  this  really  one  of  the  Nation's  Wards  as 
yet  entirely  untamed  ?  "  was  Ellery's  rather  bookish 
salutation.  "What  a  novel  sight.  But  —  I  beg 
your  pardon,"  recovering  from  his  curious  surprise 
enough  to  lift  his  hat  and  bow  politely  to  the  little 
squaw,  who  returned  a  dignified  nod.  "  I  believe 
you  didn't  give  the  name  of  this  young  1-lady, 
21 


22  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

Floy,"  he  reminded  his  cousin,  searching  his  mem- 
ory in  some  confusion  for  a  rule  of  etiquette  to  aid 
him  in  the  rather  trying  situation. 

"  Her  name  is  Piokee,"  said  Floy. 

"  I  suppose  she  hails  from  over  in  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory, and  of  course  she  doesn't  understand  the 
white  man's  language.  But  she  bows  like  a  Beacon 
Street  girl,  and  is  as  self-poised  as  a  young  princess. 
I  don't  feel  free  to  treat  her  with  the  curiosity  one 
usually  bestows  on  the  untutored  savage."  And 
the  self-possessed  young  gentleman  from  Boston 
actually  grew  fidgety  beneath  Piokee's  calm  gaze. 

"I  think  she'd  understand  swapee,"  suggested 
Floy.  "  It  might  help  you  to  break  the  ice." 

"  Ah,  yes !  an  Indian  always  likes  to  trade,  and  I 
would  like  to  have  some  of  those  gorgeous  feathers 
in  her  hair.  They  must  have  been  the  plumage  of 
some  curious  bird." 

At  this  mistaken  fancy  concerning  the  rooster 
feathers  Floy's  eyes  danced,  and  Piokee  almost 
spoiled  her  wild  Indian  tableau  by  allowing  a  de- 
mure smile  to  flit  across  her  face.  But  Ellery  was 
detaching  from  his  watch  chain  a  brightly  enameled 
charm,  the  badge  of"  his  college  society,  which  he 
was  recklessly  prepared  to  sacrifice  for  a  portion  of 
Piokee's  feathers. 

"  Swapee,"  said  Ellery,  holding  out  the  charm  in 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  began  to  pluck 


COLD  BLAST  AND  FAUQUA.          23 

his  curly  crown,  as  a  sign  that  he  wished  to  bargain 
for  her  resplendent  plumage. 

"  Um !  swapee,"  assented  she,  accepting  the 
charm  and  bending  her  head  to  let  him  choose  the 
feathers  he  admired  most. 

He  took  some  shining  green  ones  flecked  with 
white  and  gold,  and  pinned  them  to  his  coat  as 
carefully  as  if  they  were  a  bouquet  of  the  choicest 
flowers. 

"Thanks,"  said  he,  "I  shall  prize  them  very 
highly,  as  a  souvenir  of  my  introduction  to  a  charm- 
ing young  Indian  princess."  Then  aside  to  Floy, 
"  Of  course  that  compliment  is  wasted,  as  she 
doesn't  understand  a  word  I'm  saying,  but  on  the 
other  hand  I'm  safe  from  the  risk  that  she  will 
regard  my  sincere  opinion  as  flattery,  after  the 
manner  of  pale-faced  girls." 

Piokee  was  now  suddenly  seized  with  a  desire  to 
depart,  and  with  another  Beacon  Street  bow  to 
Ellery  she  turned  and  walked  away. 

Ellery  watched  her  till  she  disappeared,  with  the 
impression  that  the  graceful  wild  Indian  maid  de- 
scribed in  romance  existed  in  real  life,  and  had  not 
been  overpraised.  It  was  with  renewed  interest 
that  he  went  back  to  the  perusal  of  the  broken 
treaties. 

On  their  way  to  the  hennery  the  girls  were  over- 
taken by  Bub  Merrill,  who  had  found  a  perfect 


24  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

treasure  of  a  stolen  nest,  and  had  his  cap  well  filled 
with  eggs. 

"  Now,  Bub,"  said  Floy,  "  of  course  you  know 
just  who  this  is,  but  you  mustn't  breathe  a  word  to 
Mr.  Ellery  Winslow  before  to-morrow  night.  I 
want  him  to  see  two  tableaux  —  one  of  Miss  Dew- 
drop  as  she  might  have  been,  and  the  other  as  she 
really  is.  I  know  all  about  her  lovely  wooden- 
wedding  dress,  and  won't  he  be  astonished  at  the 
contrast  ?  " 

Bub  agreed,  and  returning  to  the  grain  room 
Piokee  hastily  threw  off  the  blanket,  braided  up  her 
long  thick  hair,  donned  her  hat  and  jacket  and 
became  her  civilized  self  once  more. 

Wrapping  the  eggs  in  scraps  of  paper,  to  guard 
against  another  accident,  she  packed  them  in  the 
basket  and  took  quick  leave  of  Floy,  lest  Ellery 
Winslow  saunter  out  and  discover  the  disguise. 

Piokee  was  not  given  to  playing  pranks,  and 
some  doubt  assailed  her  whether  she  had  done  right 
in  imposing  the  ideal  Indian  maiden  on  the  unsus- 
pecting youth  from  Boston. 

Following  this  thought  there  came  a  thrill  of 
gladness  that  she  was  a  civilized  girl,  and  not  the 
wild  young  squaw  she  might  have  been  had  not  her 
lot  been  changed  in  infancy. 

Although  raised  above  the  miserable  condition  of 
her  people,  Piokee  had  for  them  a  very  loyal  feel- 


COLD  BLAST  AND  FAUQUA.          25 

ing.  Mamma  Prairie  was  a  warm  supporter  of  In- 
dian rights,  and  had  the  deepest  sympathy  for  their 
misfortunes.  Many  chapters  of  their  pathetic  his- 
tory had  Piokee  learned  from  Dr.  Whistler,  who 
had  made  occasional  visits  to  the  little  red-brown 
girl  who  had  taken  the  romantic  ride  to  fortune  on 
his  back,  and  in  whom  he  claimed  an  equal  interest 
with  Mamma  Prairie. 

Piokee  had  her  dream  of  going  to  her  people, 
when  she  was  older,  to  teach  them  something  of 
the  new  life  in  which  she  had  been  reared.  Cook- 
ing classes  flourished  in  her  fancy,  with  rows  of 
dusky,  trimly-aproned  maids  waging  war  on  dread- 
ful Indian  messes,  and  skillfully  concocting  the 
dainty,  healthful  dishes  she  had  been  taught  to 
make. 

So  absorbed  was  she  in  her  favorite  dream  for  the 
uplifting  of  her  race  that  she  did  not  observe  that 
she  had  reached  a  lonely  quarter  of  the  timber  until 
her  pony  gave  a  sudden  start  and  waked  her  to 
a  consciousness  that  she  was  in  a  most  unusual 
situation. 

Looking  up  she  saw  two  Indians,  a  man  and 
woman,  riding  very  close  to  her,  one  upon  each 
side.  They  had  emerged  from  a  cross  road,  and 
suddenly  hemmed  her  in,  almost  jostling  against 
her  in  the  narrow  road.  They  were  wrapped  in 
blankets  and  the  man  was  decked  with  grotesque 


26  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

ornaments,  among  which  was  a  ghastly  row  of 
naked  little  china  dolls  dangling  in  halters  from  his 
scalp-lock. 

The  man  caught  hold  of  Chipmunk's  bridle,  look- 
ing up  and  down  the  road  to  see  that  no  one  was 
approaching.  "  Little  tame  squaw  name  Piokee  ?  " 
he  asked  in  English  quite  unusual  for  one  so  wildly 
dressed. 

"  Yes ;  that  is  my  Indian  name,  but  they  call  me 
Dewdrop,"  was  her  wondering  reply. 

"  Young  chief  carry  wild  papoose  to  white  man's 
cabin  ?  Grass  grow  many  times,  papoose  now  little 
tame  squaw  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  with  still  more  wonder. 

The  Indian  gave  a  grunt  of  mingled  satisfaction 
at  his  own  sagacity  in  tracing  Piokee's  history,  and 
disapproval  of  the  "  tame  "  system  by  which  she  had 
been  reared. 

His  next  movement  heightened  the  alarm  she  had 
begun  to  feel ;  indeed,  it  transfixed  her  with  actual 
fright.  Still  grasping  Chipmunk's  bridle  he  whirled 
about  and  led  him  galloping  down  the  cross  road, 
the  squaw  fast  bringing  up  the  rear.  This  was  a 
byway  seldom  used,  except  when  wood  was  hauled 
from  the  timber  that  extended  in  a  wide  belt  by 
the  river. 

Having  hurried  down  the  cross  road  some  way, 
the  Indian  let  go  of  Chipmunk's  bridle  and  turned 


COLD   BLAST   AND   FAUQUA.  27 

into  a  narrow  path,  beaten  by  cattle  going  to  and 
from  a  watering-place.  Piokee  and  the  squaw  fol- 
lowed, single  file,  until  the  three  alighted  at  an  old 
log  hut,  once  used  as  a  wood  chopper's  shelter,  but 
now  deserted. 

Here  the  Indians  appeared  to  have  set  up  a  tem- 
porary camp.  A  slab  of  bacon  and  a  bag  of  meal 
were  hanging  from  a  spike  inside  the  hut,  and  smol- 
dering brands  were  lying  in  the  rude  rock  fireplace. 
The  three  sat  down,  Indian  fashion,  on  the  floor, 
and  the  talk  that  had  been  dropped  so  suddenly  in 
the  road  began  again. 

"  Big  Injun  name  Cold  Blast.  Old  squaw,  Fau- 
qua,"  said  the  man.  "  I  have  one  squaw  more,  long 
time  back,  name  Dancing  Feet,  Piokee's  mother." 

"But,"  said  Piokee,  with  a  quick-drawn  breath, 
"  Dr.  Whistler  always  thought  my  father  was  killed 
by  accident  while  hunting  in  the  Indian  Territory 
just  before  my  mother  died." 

"  Cold  Blast,  Piokee's  father,"  the  man  insisted, 
with  a  nod  that  set  the  hanging  dolls  bobbing  in 
an  agitated  circle  round  his  scalp-lock.  "  Get  big 
wound  —  pull  through  —  no  kill.  Dancing  Feet  die 
when  I  far  off.  Feel  sad.  Go  off  be  white  soldier's 
scout.  Learn  talk  like  white  man,  feel  like  wild  In- 
jun all  same.  Marry  Fauqua,  feel  heap  more  sad." 

The  meek  little  squaw,  who  bore  the  name  Fau- 
qua, kept  an  unobtrusive  silence  while  she  strung 


28  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

the  beads  she  had  taken  from  a  gayly  ornamented 
bag  suspended  at  her  side. 

"  Piokee  think  Cold  Blast  lie,"  went  on  the  man. 
"  I  tattoo  oak  leaf  high  up  on  wrong  arm  when  she 
one-moon-old  papoose." 

"  Yes,  my  left  arm  is  tattooed  in  that  way ;  of 
course  you  are  my  father  as  you  know  so  much 
about  ine,"  said  Piokee,  dismissing  all  suspicion  that 
the  Indian  was  deceiving  her. 

But  she  could  not  feel  the  gladness  natural  to  a 
daughter  who  has  found  a  long-lost  father,  for  Cold 
Blast  had  a  stern  face  and  forbidding  manner  that 
impressed  her  with  unspeakable  dread.  However, 
she  resolved  to  face  the  situation  bravely,  and  strive 
to  cultivate  a  warmer  heart  for  this  unwelcome 
stranger  who  had  come  to  claim  her  as  his  child. 

"You  must  go  home  with  me  —  both  of  you," 
said  she,  "and  see  Mamma  Prairie  and  good  Mr. 
Bowers,  whom  you  will  want  to  thank  for  having 
been  so  very,  very  kind  to  me.  And  you  can  see 
our  little  Miriam,  who  is  oh !  so  sweet  and  cunning, 
and  be  introduced  to  Dr.  Whistler,  the  young  chief 
who  took  me  to  the  white  man's  cabin.  There's  to 
be  a  wooden  wedding  at  the  ranch  to-morrow  even- 
ing —  and  —  of  course  —  you'll  be  invited." 

Piokee  said  the  words  slowly,  thinking  of  the  ludi- 
crous unfitness  of  Cold  Blast  and  Fauqua  for  even 
the  simple  entertainment  in  prospect  at  the  ranch. 


COLD  BLAST  AND  FAUQUA.  29 

But  in  response  to  this  Cold  Blast  scowled  and 
shook  his  head  so  fiercely  the  dolls  went  off  into 
another  agony,  and  nearly  broke  their  halters  with 
spasmodic  writhing. 

"Not  tell  white  people,  not  tell  young  chief 
Piokee  find  father.  They  say  I  wait  long  time,  not 
have  little  tame  squaw.  Piokee  keep  sly,  hide  here. 
Night  come,  steal  off,  ride  fast.  Go  where  Injun 
live,  be  wild  squaw." 

At  this  proposal  Piokee' s  brain  fairly  reeled.  She 
now  realized  that  Cold  Blast  had  laid  a  plan  for  her 
abduction,  by  which  she  was  to  be  snatched  off  from 
those  who  were  so  dear  to  her. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    RANSOM. 

^  T)UT  surely,"  pleaded  Piokee,  "you  don't  want 

-I-J  to  carry  me  away  from  Mamma  Prairie 
when  I  arn  so  well  taken  care  of  and  so  happy  here  ? 
The  Indian  is  so  very  poor,  you  would  have  no  food 
to  spare  for  me." 

"Piokee  help  old  squaw  hoe  corn,"  said  Cold 
Blast.  "  Camp  out  in  timber,  pick  pecans.  Earn 
heap  money." 

"  Oh !  I've  never  worked  out  doors  except  to 
weed  the  flowers.  And  those  pecan  camps  —  I  have 
heard  of  them,"  shudderingly.  "  The  pickers  suffer 
so  from  cold,  and  go  hungry  very  often.  Indeed,  it 
is  too  terrible  to  think  of."  And  the  poor  little 
"  princess "  clasped  her  slender  hands  above  the 
basket  in  her  lap  and  sat  like  one  bereft  of  hope. 

The  part  of  the  uncivilized  young  squaw  she  had 
playfully  acted  for  Ellery  Winslow's  entertainment 
now  seemed  a  mockery,  and  her  romantic  dream  of 
so 


THE   RANSOM.  31 

flitting  to  her  people  as  an  enlightening  spirit  had 
lost  its  charm. 

Between  herself  and  that  deplorable  race  whose 
blood  was  in  her  veins  there  now  appeared  a  great 
gulf  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  cross.  On  one 
side  was  the  sweet,  contented  life  she  had  always 
known,  on  the  other  want  and  misery,  to  which  she 
was  a  stranger.  Mamma  Prairie,  Miriam,  her  happy 
home  —  she  must  go  back  to  them  at  all  events. 

Suddenly  a  new  hope  seized  Piokee,  and  she 
eagerly  proposed  to  pay  a  ransom  to  her  father, 
strange  as  that  may  seem. 

"I  have  thirty  dollars  —  so  many  gold  pieces," 
holding  up  six  fingers.  "  They  are  Christmas  gifts 
from  dear  Mr.  Bowers,  but  I  can  use  them  as  I  like, 
and  I  am  sure  he  would  be  glad  to  have  me  give 
them  to  you,  if  you  are  in  need.  Will  you  take 
the  gold,  and  go  away  and  leave  me  with  Mamma 
Prairie  ?  " 

Cold  Blast  gave  a  meditative  grunt  and  sat  as  if 
considering  the  offer,  while  Piokee  waited  in  sus- 
pense, feeling  that  her  fate  for  life  depended  on  his 
answer. 

"  I  take  money,  go  off  visit  Pawnee  Injun,  make 
medicine,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Make  good  medicine,  I 
come  back  get  Piokee  when  round  moon  dark. 
Piokee  keep  sly,  watch  sharp  —  watch  every  day. 
Find  bush  hanging  down  on  big  tree  got  no  insides 


32          PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

on  wide  road,  steal  off  in  dark  night,  come  here. 
Ride  very  fast  go  where  wild  Injun  live.  Make  bad 
medicine,  maybe  little  tame  squaw's  hair  turn  white 
old  father  never  come  back." 

Piokee  felt  a  sting  of  conscience  at  this  pathetic 
ending  of  her  sire's  speech,  but  such  was  her  anxiety 
to  escape  sharing  his  condition  that  she  strove  to 
steel  her  heart  against  him. 

It  was  only  a  provisional  ransom,  after  all,  but  it 
was  the  best  that  she  could  do,  and  there  would  be 
a  few  precious  days  before  the  parting,  if  it  must 
come  then.  She  solemnly  agreed  to  keep  the  secret, 
and  to  bring  the  money  to  the  hut  next  morning, 
before  daybreak,  if  she  could  steal  away,  and  thus 
avoid  all  chance  of  being  seen. 

It  was  almost  five  o'clock  when  she  reached  home. 
In  the  sweet-smelling  kitchen  the  cheerful  prepara- 
tions were  going  on.  Aunt  Abigail  was  there,  dis- 
patching whatever  work  her  hands  could  find  to  do. 

"  Am  I  very  late  with  the  eggs  ?  "  Piokee  asked, 
setting  her  basket  on  the  table. 

"  Just  in  time,"  said  Prairie  cheerfully,  "  though 
Sally  is  a  little  more  than  ready  to  begin  the  frost- 
ing. She  has  been  churning  the  empty  air  with 
the  egg-beater  for  something  like  two  minutes,  I 
believe,"  she  added  with  a  smile  as  Sally  seized  the 
eggs  and  dodged  into  the  pantry. 

Piokee   sank  into  a  chair,   overcome  with  a  re- 


THE   RANSOM.  33 

action  of  the  nervous  strain  and  fairly  shivering  with 
suppressed  emotion. 

"  Why,  dear  child,  how  cold  and  blue  you  look !  " 
said  Prairie  with  concern.  "  You  should  have  worn 
a  warmer  jacket  than  that  light  spring  cutaway. 
The  wind  has  changed  into  the  west,  and  the  air  is 
very  raw." 

Ah !  how  Piokee  longed  to  seek  the  shelter  of  her 
foster-mother's  loving  arms,  and  tell  her  what  had 
happened  in  the  wood.  If  she  could  only  fall 
asleep  and  wake  to  find  it  all  a  dream  —  this  vision 
of  the  grim  barbarian  who  had  come  to  claim  her 
as  his  child,  and  against  whom  she  was  so  undutifully 
rebelling ! 

"  It's  a  shakin'  chill,"  said  Ebenezer,  on  his  way 
toward  the  wood-box  with  his  long  arms  twined 
about  a  load  of  hickory.  "  I  ust  ter  hev  'em  fit  to 
kill." 

"  Yes,  'tis,"  said  Sally,  bursting  into  sight  again 
to  show  her  sympathy.  She  came  in  square  col- 
lision with  Ebenezer' s  tall,  gaunt  form,  but  by  a 
dexterous  feat  of  strength  on  the  part  of  both, 
Ebenezer  kept  his  grip  on  the  wood  and  Sally  saved 
the  eggs.  "  Yes ;  'tis  a  shakin'  chill.  Chair's  a-f airly 
dancin'  under  her."  She  vanished  like  a  flash  once 
more,  and  banged  the  pantry  door  behind  her. 

"Looks  to  me  more  like  hysterics,"  said  Aunt 
Abigail.  "  Did  you  come  across  a  rattlesnake,  or 


34  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

any  other  dangerous  creature  on  the  road  ?  "  trans- 
fixing Piokee  with  a  keen  glance  through  her 
spectacles. 

Piokee  shook  her  head  and  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  control  her  chattering  teeth. 

"  Calls  back  ole  mem'ries  of  how  I  ust  ter  shake," 
said  Ebenezer,  backing  to  the  door  when  he  had  shed 
his  load,  his  mild  eyes  still  regarding  Piokee  with 
reflective  pity.  "  Remember  how  you  cured  me, 
Mis'  Bowers  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  with  some  ague  root  that  Whistler  gave 
me.  But  I  haven't  had  a  bit  of  that  for  years,  and 
don't  know  where  to  get  it,"  said  Prairie,  with  an 
anxious  eye  on  Piokee.  "  How  strange  to  think 
that  Whistler  is  a  regular  physican  now,  prescribing 
civilized  pills  and  powders  instead  of  '  medicine  bush.' 
That  is  what  he  called  the  ague  root.  How  fortu- 
nate, too,  that  he's  in  town  to-night,  for  Dewdrop 
really  seems  to  need  a  doctor,  and  I  think  you'd 
better  go  for  him  at  once." 

"No,  no,"  protested  Piokee,  much  dismayed  at 
having  made  herself  the  object  of  so  much  attention. 
"  I'm  not  ill,  indeed  I'm  not.  Please  don't  send  for 
him,"  she  begged,  thinking  of  her  errand  to  the  hut 
next  morning,  and  desiring  that  above  all  others 
Dr.  Whistler  might  not  come  till  it  was  done.  With 
this  she  started  from  the  chair  and  escaped  upstairs. 

"  If  it  is  hysterics,  it's  an  Indian  quirk,"  observed 


THE    RANSOM.  35 

Aunt  Abigail.  "As  for  that  young  quack  —  Dr. 
Whistler  —  I  haven't  a  speck  of  confidence  in  his 
ability.  An  Indian  can't  be  trusted  out  of  sight, 
and  more  than  likely  he  has  ground  that  very  root 
you  thought  was  such  a  cure-all  years  ago  into 
powders,  mixed  it  up  in  pills  and  steeped  it  for  a 
juice  to  fill  the  vials  of  that  medicine  case  he  car- 
ries round  with  such  an  honest  air." 

"  Charitably,  more  charitably  !  "  laughed  John, 
emerging  from  the  dining-room  with  little  Miriam. 
"  That's  rather  hard  on  the  medical  school  of  which 
Whistler  is  a  member  in  good  standing,  but  perhaps 
that  is  the  root  of  his  success  in  curing  stubborn 
ailments." 

"Well,  Prairie,"  said  Aunt  Abigail,  tying  on  her 
bonnet  to  go  home,  "  Dewdrop  had  better  take  a 
thorough  sweat  to-night.  Of  course  you  can't  sweat 
out  the  Indian,  but  if  she's  taken  cold  a  sweat  may 
do  her  good.  I  wonder  if  the  child  was  warm 
enough  this  afternoon ;  you've  coddled  her  so  much 
'twould  be  a  marvel  if  she  didn't  sneeze  at  every 
breath  of  air.  I  didn't  like  her  look  of  misery,  and 
maybe  it  would  be  as  well  to  send  for  Dr.  Whistler 
if  she  doesn't  chirk  up  by  supper-time.  Perhaps  a 
red-skinned  humbug  is  no  likelier  to  kill  a  patient 
than  a  white  one." 

The  doctor  was  not  sent  for,  for  Piokee  came  to 
supper  outwardly  calm,  and  quietly  attentive  to  the 


36  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

wants  of  Miriam,  whose  place  was  next  hers  at  the 
table.  Prairie  thereupon  concluded  that  she  was 
not  really  ill,  and  that  the  west  wind  must  have 
caused  the  shivering  spell. 

"  Reckon  'twarn't  a  shakin'  chill  —  'pears  like  we 
was  all  mistaken.  She's  a  playin'  on  her  fiddle," 
noted  Ebenezer,  dropping  in  to  have  a  chat  with 
Sally. 

"  No ;  twarn't,"  agreed  Sally,  as  a  plaintive  strain 
of  music  floated  down  from  Piokee's  chamber.  "  'Tis 
that  there  gypsy  song,  i  I  dreamed  I  Dwelt  in  Mar- 
ble Halls.'  Plays  jes'  like  a  angel,  don't  she  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I'd  ruther  hear  li vely  music.  l  Skip  ter 
my  Lou '  suits  my  taste.  Reckon  that's  a  fav'rite 
tyune  with  all  the  boys.  Don't  seem  ter  be  onpop'lar 
with  you  girls." 

"  Yes,  'tis,"  said  Sally,  warding  off  the  sentimental 
turn  Ebenezer  was  inclined  to  take.  "  Yes,  'tis  on- 
pop'lar with  us  girls.  '  Skip '  don't  suit  our  taste  — 
not  by  a  long  jog." 

More  than  thirty  years  had  spread  their  coats  of 
tan  upon  the  amiable  faces  of  this  honest  pair  of 
helpers,  but  being  in  a  state  of  single  blessedness 
they  were  still  numbered  with  the  boys  and  girls  in 
Western  phrase. 

"Wa-al,  I'd  like  ter  ask  a  faver,  Sally,"  ventured 
Ebenezer,  not  without  great  fear  and  trembling. 
"  Nex'  time  we're  at  a  party  an'  air  playin'  '  Skip 


PIOKEE    AND    HER    VIOLIN. 


THE    RANSOM.  39 

ter  my  Lou,'  I'd  be  mightily  obleeged  ef  you  would 
skip  ter  me  a  leetle  of'ner  than  ter  the  other  boys." 

Sally  dodged  behind  the  cupboard  door  to  hide 
her  pleasure  at  these  words,  and  then  came  back 
with  an  air  of  cool  indifference. 

"  Wa-al,  ef  pardners  is  skurser  than  persimmons 
in  the  spring  mought  be  I  will,"  she  said. 

Piokee  loved  her  violin  —  how  fondly  none  but 
she  herself  would  ever  know.  It  had  a  song  for 
every  mood.  She  had  taken  lessons  of  Priscilla 
Winslow,  who  had  had  good  musical  training  in  the 
East,  and  she  played  with  more  than  ordinary  skill 
the  simple  airs  which  she  had  learned. 

"  My  Dewdwop's  violin  is  cwying.  I  must  go 
and  see  what  ails  it,"  said  Miriam,  who  was  enjoy- 
ing a  good-night  frolic  with  her  father  when  the 
wail  of  music  reached  her  ears. 

With  her  tiny  terrier,  Frisky,  in  her  arms  she 
stole  upstairs. 

Piokee  stood  before  the  window  gazing  out  on 
the  moonlit  lawn  and  wondering  if  the  pecan  pickers 
had  begun  to  camp  out  in  the  timber,  and  if  they 
were  cold  when  night  came  on.  Before  long  she 
might  be  among  them,  and  who  would  care  like 
dear  Mamma  Prairie  whether  she  were  warmly 
clad  or  not  when  the  shrill  wind  whistled  through 
the  forest? 

Miriam  climbed  a  chair  and  squeezed  herself  be- 


40  PIOKEE   AND   HEK   PEOPLE. 

tween  Piokee  and  the  window-sill,  claiming  the 
attention  that  was  never  denied  her. 

"  Don't  cwy,  poor  music,"  she  commanded  gently, 
laying  a  caressing  hand  on  the  bow.  "What  ails  it, 
Dewdwop  ?  I  fought  your  violin  was  always  happy," 
in  a  puzzled  tone. 

No  answer  from  the  sad  musician.  She  laid  aside 
her  violin  and  dropped  her  cheek  on  Miriam's  golden 
head  and  clasped  the  little  girl  and  little  dog  tightly 
in  her  arms. 

"  Oh-h !  you  hug  me  so  hard.  'Cause  you  love 
me  so  much  ?  "  panted  Miriam,  struggling  for  breath 
while  Frisky  barked  a  sharp  objection  to  the  double 
squeeze. 

"  Yes,  precious  one,"  thought  Piokee,  still  silent. 
"  I  love  you  so  much  it  would  break  my  heart  to 
leave  you.  Oh!  that  dreadful  man  who  wants  to 
carry  me  away.  But  I  mustn't  have  such  wicked 
thoughts  of  my  father.  I  must  not  break  my  prom- 
ise. But  how  can  I  keep  the  secret  from  Mamma 
Prairie  and  from  Dr.  Whistler  ?  He  says  an  Indian 
who  has  the  bad  heart  is  very  sly  and  treacherous. 
If  I  am  hiding  something  I  shall  be  sly  and  treacher- 
ous, and  I  wonder  if  he'll  find  it  out  and  think  I 
have  the  bad  heart,  too  ?  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   MOONLIGHT   RIDE. 

LONG  before  the  break  of  day,  Piokee  was  step- 
ping noiselessly  about  her  room,  getting  ready 
for  her  errand  to  the  hut.  She  had  no  need  of 
groping  in  the  dark,  for  a  full  moon  cast  a  flood  of 
light  into  the  room  and  made  the  world  outside  too 
bright,  by  far,  to  suit  her  stealthy  purpose. 

Slipping  down  the  back  stairs,  she*  unlocked  the 
kitchen  door;  and  going  to  the  stable,  she  led  her 
pony  out  into  a  shadowy  angle  of  the  building, 
where  she  saddled  him  in  breathless  haste. 

At  this  uncanny  hour,  when  none  but  those  still 
things  that  flit  about  at  night  were  stirring,  she  sped 
across  the  prairie  to  the  cover  of  the  wood.  Within 
its  shadowy  ambush  was  the  brooding  silence  that 
precedes  the  gray  dawn  of  an  autumn  day. 

Piokee  started  at  the  turbulent  beating  of  her  own 
heart,  and  wished  the  woodpeckers  were  awake  to 
keep  her  company. 


42  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  dread  that  she  looked 
forward  to  another  meeting  with  her  father,  and  her 
conscience  was  upbraiding  her  in  two  ways ;  both 
for  her  undutiful  thoughts  of  him,  and  for  the  con- 
cealment that  had  brought  about  her  secret  ride 
from  home. 

She  was  haunted  with  the  fear  that  he  would 
change  his  mind,  and  after  she  had  paid  the  ransom 
would  insist  on  carrying  her  away  then  and  there. 
It  was  a  thick  wild  stretch  of  timber  further  on,  in 
which  pursuit  might  be  eluded,  even  in  the  daytime, 
until  they  had  crossed  the  border  of  the  Indian 
Territory.  Over  there  she  could  not  be  retaken 
from  her  father,  for  Mrs.  Bowers  had  no  legal  right 
to  claim  Piokee,  although  she  called  her  an  adopted 
child. 

Piokee  was  about  to  turn  into  the  narrow  path, 
when  Chipmunk  all  at  once  drew  back  and  shook 
with  fright.  There  was  a  dark  misshapen-look- 
ing object  crouching  at  the  entrance  of  the  path. 
Piokee  also  trembled  when  she  saw  it. 

It  was  Fauqua,  sitting  there  asleep,  closely  muffled 
in  her  blanket  with  her  head  upon  her  knees.  The 
sound  of  Chipmunk's  hoofs  awoke  her  and  she 
started  up,  and,  stepping  out  into  the  cross  road, 
greeted  Piokee  with  a  soft-spoken,  "  How  ?  " 

"Cold  Blast  sleep  sound,  snore  loud.  Old  Injun 
scare  little  tame  squaw.  Stay  here,"  she  murmured. 


THE   MOONLIGHT    RIDE.  43 

Piokee  felt  an  instant  liking  for  this  friendly  lit- 
tle step-mother  who  had  stolen  out  to  meet  her  and 
allay  her  fears. 

"  Oh !  and  you've  been  waiting  here  for  me  — 
how  good  you  are."  She  breathed  her  thanks  in 
deep  relief.  "  You  can  take  the  money,  and  I 
needn't  wait  a  minute." 

The  gold  was  in  a  little  iron  box,  the  image  of  a 
frog,  which  Fauqua  cautiously  eyed  by  the  light  of 
the  moon,  but  would  not  touch. 

"  Rich  toad  spit  money  —  bad  medicine,"  she  said, 
shrinking  back  in  childish  fear  as  Piokee  shook  a 
coin  from  its  mouth  and  dropped  it  back  again. 

"  No ;  it's  only  a  make-believe  frog.  See !  its  legs 
don't  wiggle,  and  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  it," 
Piokee  said ;  "  you  might  lose  the  money  if  I  took 
it  from  the  bank." 

The  superstitious  squaw  could  hardly  be  convinced, 
but  at  last  Piokee  was  allowed  to  drop  the  bank  into 
the  bag  at  Fauqua's  side.  The  wearer  tied  the  bag, 
however,  with  the  wariest  care. 

"Rich  toad  crawl  out — bad  medicine,"  said  she. 

"  I  hope  the  gold  will  be  of  use  to  you  as  well  as 
to  my  father,"  said  Piokee ;  "  you  can  buy  some 
better  food  than  meal  and  bacon,  and  you'll  need 
new  blankets  for  the  winter." 

Fauqua  shook  her  head.  "Cold  Blast  buy  new 
gun,  swapee  pony,  pay  big  boot,"  said  she. 


44  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

Piokee  sighed  to  think  her  treasured  Christmas 
coins  would  not  be  spent  for  comforts,  but  she  hardly 
had  expected  it  would  be  otherwise,  knowing  as  she 
did  that  the  uncivilized  Indian  values  guns  and  ponies 
more  than  food  and  clothing. 

Fauqua  laid  her  hand  on  Chipmunk's  mane  as  if 
she  wished  to  hold  some  further  conversation,  and 
though  intensely  anxious  to  return  home  in  the 
greatest  haste,  Piokee  staid  another  minute. 

"  Cold  Blast  make  good  medicine,  Piokee  come 
soon  where  wild  Injun  live?"  Fauqua  wistfully 
asked. 

"Oh!  don't  speak  of  it  —  how  could  I?"  said 
Piokee,  breaking  into  a  convulsive  moan.  "  I  love 
Mamma  Prairie  and  my  beautiful  happy  home  so 
dearly  —  O,  so  dearly !  And  Miriam,  our  sweet, 
sweet  baby  —  it  would  break  my  heart  to  leave 
her."  And  the  low  wail  ended  in  a  sob. 

"  I  treat  Piokee  good,"  said  Fauqua  still  more 
wistfully.  "  Up-a-tree  and  Nanno  feel  proud ;  say 
tame  sister  know  heap  much.  Learn  wild  Injun 
many  things." 

"  Oh !  are  there  —  are  there  —  two  —  children  ? 
No ;  surely,  I  haven't  a  little  half-brother  and  sis- 
ter?" grasping  Fauqua's  meaning,  but  feeling  that 
she  could  not  bear  this  added  test  to  her  resistance 
to  be  torn  from  home  and  loved  ones, 

Fauqua  nodded  yes. 


THE   MOONLIGHT   RIDE.  47 

"  Up-a-tree  so  old,"  holding  up  ten  fingers.  "  Hunt 
game,  ride  wild  pony.  Heap  brave  boy.  Nanno 
outgrow  papoose.  String  beads,  watch  fire  boil 
meat.  Good  little  girl.  Young  Injuns  stay  with 
old  squaw  Keotach  while  I  come  here." 

"  Oh  !  do  forgive  me,  but  don't  tell  me  any  more 
about  them,"  begged  Piokee  wretchedly.  "  It  is 
all  so  sudden  and  so  hard  to  understand." 

Fauqua  said  no  more,  but  turned  and  walked 
away,  and  Piokee  hurried  back  along  the  cross  road. 

Those  little  wild  things  over  there  across  the  bor- 
der —  what  were  they  to  her,  compared  to  Miriam  ? 
she  argued  to  herself  while  rushing  homeward  like 
the  wind.  She  did  not  need  them,  and  since  they 
had  never  known  her  they  could  never  miss  her  as 
would  Miriam,  if  they  two  were  torn  apart. 

But  Up-a-tree  —  the  reckless  little  boy  who  cared 
for  nothing  but  to  hunt  and  ride  wild  ponies  — 
would  he  never  learn  to  read  and  work  ?  And 
Nanno,  the  good  little  girl  who  strung  the  beads 
and  watched  the  fire  beneath  the  kettle  —  had  she 
never,  never  seen  a  picture-book  nor  hugged  a  blue- 
eyed  dolly  in  her  arms  ?  Well,  that  was  one  of  life's 
sad  happenings  that  could  not  be  helped,  lamented 
Piokee,  while  pitying  tears  for  Up-a-tree  and  Nanno 
dropped  into  her  lap. 

She  must  fly  back  home,  and  if  the  medicine 
proved  good,  and  she  found  the  broken  bough  on 


48  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

the  hollow  tree  —  why,  she  must  try  another  ran- 
soin.  Chipmunk  was  entirely  her  own,  and  dearly 
as  she  loved  the  little  creature  she  would  tie  him 
to  a  tree  out  on  the  prairie  in  the  night,  and  let  her 
father  take  him  as  the  price  of  her  continued  freedom. 

Having  laid  this  plan  she  suddenly  remembered 
that  it  would  not  work,  for  her  determined  sire 
could  carry  her  away  and  have  the  pony,  too,  as 
she  must  make  the  journey  to  the  reservation  on 
his  back.  Well,  there  was  a  little  time  to  wait,  and 
something  might  occur  to  free  her  from  the  bondage. 
The  medicine  might  be  bad,  although  she  had  a 
strong  suspicion  it  would  be  as  Cold  Blast  willed. 
Perhaps  —  who  knew  —  the  strongest  lives  are  some- 
times suddenly  cut  off  —  she  checked  herself  in 
horror  at  the  wicked  wish  that  he  might  die  and  she 
become  indeed  the  orphan  she  had  thought  herself. 

The  dreaded  errand  over,  she  alighted  at  the 
stable  as  a  light  gleamed  forth  from  Mrs.  Biddle's 
window  at  the  tenant  house  a  few  rods  distant, 
where  the  hired  men  were  quartered.  Very  soon 
they  would  be  out,  she  knew,  to  feed  the  sheep  and 
cattle  in  the  yards. 

With  a  rush  she  put  her  pony  in  the  stall,  hung 
the  saddle  and  the  bridle  on  their  nails,  locked  the 
stable  door  and  laid  the  key  beneath  the  beam  out- 
side, where  it  was  kept  at  night,  then  flew  toward 
the  house. 


THE    MOONLIGHT    RIDE.  49 

As  she  was  stealing  upstairs,  an  alarm  clock  sud- 
denly went  off:  in  Sally's  room,  and  on  the  instant 
Sally  bounded  out  of  bed  .with  a  resounding  thump. 

Piokee  did  not  stop  to  breathe  till  she  was  in  her 
room. 

The  moonlight  was  now  merging  into  daylight, 
and  there  was  a  stir  throughout  the  house.  Miriam, 
who  was  an  early  bird  at  all  times,  now  awoke  to 
greet  the  dawn,  and  hopping  from  her  downy  nest 
went  chirping  downstairs  with  her  mother.  Pre- 
sently Piokee  joined  the  family  in  the  dining-room. 

There  she  found  Aunt  Abigail  with  shawl  and 
bonnet  laid  aside,  unfolding  a  tale  that  puzzled  all 
except  Piokee,  who  was  inwardly  dismayed. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    SHADOW   GIRL. 

••  T  CALLED  your  father  up  to  eat  his  break- 
J-  fast  long  before  the  roosters  crowed,  so  that 
I  could  hurry  over  here  to  see  about  that  ice  cream 
you  were  going  to  make  by  sunrise,  Prairie.  The 
salt  box  danced  a  jig  before  my  eyes  all  night  and 
I  took  it  for  a  warning  that  you'd  sweeten  the  ice 
cream  with  salt  instead  of  sugar  if  I  didn't  make 
haste  to  prevent  it." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Miriam, "  did  'e  dancing  salt  box  have 
a  pair  of  legs  and  arms  ?  And  was  it  dwessed  up  like 
a  dancing  monkey,  and  was  vere  a  hand  organ  and 
a  wagged  man  'at  played  a  tune  for  it  to  dance  by  ? 
0,  Auntie  —  oh  !  it  must  have  looked  so  fat  and 
funny."  And  she  fairly  screamed  with  laughter. 

"Mercy  !  what  a  queer  child,"  said  Aunt  Abigail, 
forced  to  smile  at  this  amusing  picture  drawn  by 
Miriam's  fertile  fancy.  "You  can  jump  at  the  con- 
clusion that  it  would  have  been  no  laughing  matter 

50 


THE    SHADOW   GIRL.  51 

had  there  been  a  dancing  burglar  in  this  house.  It 
was  enough  to  make  a  whole  gang  dance  for  joy  the 
way  I  found  the  back  door  stretched  wide  open, 
Sally  scurrying  around  upstairs  to  dress,  and  all 
those  tempting  victuals  in  the  pantry,  and  that  silver 
teaset  perched  up  on  the  sideboard." 

Piokee  gave  an  inward  start,  wondering  if  she 
could  have  failed  to  lock  the  door  when  she  came 
in.  Yes,  she  had  thought  she  heard  a  footstep  in 
the  yard,  which  must  have  been  Aunt  Abigail's,  and 
in  her  flurry  she  had  fled  upstairs  and  left  the  door 
ajar,  no  doubt,  and  it  had  been  blown  open  by  the 
wind. 

"  Why,  that  is  very  strange,"  said  Prairie.  "  I 
am  sure  I  locked  the  door  myself  after  all  the  rest 
had  gone  to  bed,  last  night." 

"  Well,  the  oddest  part  is  yet  to  come,"  resumed 
her  aunt.  "  As  I  was  walking  through  the  lane  be- 
tween this  place  and  ours,  I  saw  some  one  ahead  of 
me  on  horseback.  I  am  positive  it  was  a  girl  — 
about  the  size  of  Dewdrop."  Here  the  sharp  eyes 
underneath  the  spectacles  were  turned  upon  Piokee, 
sitting  breathless  on  the  couch  with  Miriam  at  her 
side. 

"  She  was  riding  like  a  whirlwind,  and  I  thought 
it  was  some  neighbor's  girl,  come  to  borrow  pare- 
goric for  a  baby  in  a  fit,  or  something  of  the  sort. 
I'm  sure  she  turned  in  here.  She  seemed  to  swing 


52  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

the  gate  without  alighting  from  her  horse ;  but  a 
cloud  must  needs  go  scurrying  across  the  moon  just 
then,  and  I  lost  sight  of  her  while  she  was  on  that 
winding  road  below  the  maple  wind  break." 

"  'Twarn't  nobuddy  after  nothin'  here,"  protested 
Sally.  "  I'd  hev  heerd  'em  if  they'd  pounded  on 
the  kitchen  door  or  rung  the  bell  in  front." 

She  was  scudding  round  to  set  the  table  while  de- 
vouring the  mysterious  report  with  a  prodigious 
appetite.  Aunt  Abigail  had  given  her  a  taste  of  it 
before  the  others  came  downstairs,  but  she  swal- 
lowed every  detail  with  unabated  relish. 

"No,  'twarn't  —  'twarn't  nobuddy  after  nothin' 
here,"  she  reiterated  for  the  twentieth  time. 

"  Well,  I  saw  no  one  as  I  came  up,  but  where 
that  rider  vanished,  like  a  streak  of  -nothing,  is  a 
nut  too  hard  for  me  to  crack,"  Aunt  Abigail  re- 
sponded writh  a  staggered  air. 

All  at  once  a  new  thought  dawned  on  Sally,  and 
the  knives  and  forks  which  she  was  scattering  round 
the  table  slid  from  her  disabled  grasp  and  clattered 
to  the  floor. 

"  I  hope  —  it  warn't  —  a  shadder  girl,"  she  specu- 
lated, shying  to  one  side,  as  if  to  dodge  the  spook. 

"  What  is  a  shadow  girl  ?  "asked  Miriam,  snuggling 
close  to  Piokee. 

"  Somethin'  that  folks  sees  a-flittin'  right  afore 
the'r  eyes,  an'  nobuddy  never  ketches  up  with/' 


THE    SHADOW    GIRL.  53 

answered  Sally,  in  a  grewsome  tone.  "  It  kin  onlock 
doors  without  a  key." 

"  Fudge  and  fiddlesticks  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Abi- 
gail, with  such  contempt  that  Sally  gave  a  bound 
and  fled  the  room  in  sore  disgrace. 

Aunt  Abigail  could  have  her  own  impressions,  as 
forsooth  the  dancing  salt  box,  but  she  could  not 
tolerate  a  grain  of  superstition  in  another. 

"Did  'e  shadow  girl  scare  Sally,  or  what  made 
her  talk  so  far  down  in  'e  bottom  of  her  f roat  ?  " 
still  questioned  Miriam,  while  she  took  possession 
of  Piokee's  hand,  that  trembled  in  her  soft  warm 
clasp. 

"  There  isn't  any  shadow  girl.  Don't  think  about 
it  any  more,  dear,"  answered  Prairie,  picking  up 
the  knives  and  forks.  "  That  girl  on  horseback 
must  have  seen  a  light  at  Mrs.  Biddle's  and  have 
ridden  over  there,  as  we  were  wrapped  in  darkness. 
But  I  can't  imagine  what  would  call  one  out  before 
daylight,  except  a  case  of  life  or  death  —  or  a  danc- 
ing salt  box,"  looking  merrily  at  her  aunt. 

Mrs.  Biddle  presently  came  in,  and  being  ques- 
tioned by  Aunt  Abigail,  said  that  there  had  been  no 
caller  at  the  tenant  house  that  morning.  Hence 
the  mystery  of  the  shadow  girl  remained  as  deep 
as  ever. 

"Chipmunk  must  be  sick,"  said  Ebenezer,  enter- 
ing the  kitchen  after  breakfast.  "  He  was  in  a  reek 


54  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

o'  sweat  this  mornin',  when  I  went  ter  feed  an'  water 
him,  an'  Mr.  Bowers  has  led  him  out  ter  see  if  he 
don't  need  some  doctorin'." 

Piokee,  who  was  helping  Prairie  wash  the  break- 
fast china,  slipped  a  cup  into  the  scalding  water  she 
had  poured  into  the  pan,  and  deliberately  plunged 
her  hand  in  after  it.  This  was  torture,  pure  and 
simple,  but  like  the  antidote  of  causing  pain  to  cure 
pain,  it  was  keen  delight  compared  to  all  that  she 
was  suffering  in  her  mind. 

"  Why,  Dewdrop,  how  you  must  have  burned  your 
hand  !  "  Prairie  said  with  pitying  surprise.  "  You 
were  thinking  of  the  pony  and  forgot  to  cool 
the  water.  My  dear  child,  how  could  you  be  so 
careless  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  it,"  said  Piokee,  with  a  wan  smile 
nickering  on  her  lips. 

"  I  do,"  said  Prairie,  tenderly  examining  the  reck- 
less hand.  "  There,  run  away  and  get  the  liniment. 
You'll  find  it  on  the  top  shelf  of  the  closet  in  the 
dining-room.  You  must  nurse  your  hand  to-day  or 
it  will  be  too  sore  to  play  the  violin  to-night.  We 
should  be  sorry  not  to  hear  the  pretty  piece  you 
have  been  practicing  so  faithfully." 

Piokee  left  the  room  without  another  word. 

"  0,  poor,  poor  hand  !  I  must  go  and  pity  it,"  said 
Miriam,  trotting  after  her. 

"  No,  little  dear,  don't  come  just  now.     I'd  rather 


THE    SHADOW   GIRL.  55 

be  alone  awhile,"  Piokee  said,  kissing  Miriam  in  the 
closet  and  then  turning  hastily  to  mount  a  chair  she 
placed  beside  the  shelves. 

"  Why,  ven,  I'll  go  wight  back ;  but  I  was  des 
sure  you  couldn't  do  wivout  me,"  said  Miriam. 

Returning  to  her  mother  she  announced  in  puz- 
zled tones,  "  My  Dewdwop  doesn't  want  me.  She  has 
always  wanted  me  till  now,  and  I  don't  understand  it." 

"  Well,  don't  mind  it,  Pet,"  said  Prairie.  "  Dew- 
drop's  hand  is  smarting,  and  perhaps  she  wants  to 
have  a  little  cry  all  by  herself,  to  ease  the  pain. 
There  comes  papa,  leading  Chipmunk,"  looking 
from  the  window.  "  Get  your  cap  and  run  and  pat 
the  pony's  nose,  and  ask  him  if  he'd  like  a  dose  of 
peppermint  on  a  lump  of  sugar." 

Miriam  skipped  away  to  lavish  sympathy  on  the 
pony,  as  Piokee  was  in  no  mood  to  accept  it. 

"  The  Indian  is  cropping  out  in  Dewdrop  with  a 
vengeance,"  said  Aunt  Abigail,  heaping  up  the  white- 
of-egg  froth  she  was  beating  for  the  ice  cream  in  a 
snowy  pile,  to  see  if  it  would  stand  alone.  "  It  has 
always  seemed  as  if  she'd  fling  herself  beneath  the 
Car  of  Juggernaut  for  Miriam's  sake,  and  now  a 
freak  has  seized  her  not  to  let  the  child  come  near 
her.  Then,  too,  I  was  watching  Dewdrop  like  a 
hawk  when  Ebenezer  spoke  about  the  pony,  and  if 
she  didn't  plunge  her  hand  into  that  scalding  water 
purely  on  purpose,  I'm  mistaken." 


56  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

"  Why,  Auntie,  how  impossible  ! "  said  Prairie  in 
amazement.  "Dear  me!  what  has  caused  you  to 
imagine  that  ?  " 

"  I've  heard  that  Indians  take  a  barbarous  delight 
in  torturing  themselves  to  ease  a  guilty  conscience 
—  if  they  ever  have  a  conscience  —  and  perhaps 
there's  something  preying  on  her  mind  that  is  de- 
veloping the  mania  in  her.  She  is  as  silent  as  a 
sphinx  this  morning.  Not  a  word  escaped  her  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  buzz  about  the  back  door  being  open 
and  the  antics  of  the  shadow  girl  —  as  Sally  so  ab- 
surdly calls  that  horseback  vanisher." 

"  But  she  is  often  silent,  especially  when  you  are 
here.  I  think  she  doesn't  understand  you,  Auntie, 
and  is  half-afraid  you  are  in  earnest  when  you  look 
so  stern  and  make  such  startling  speeches,"  said 
Prairie,  with  a  placid  smile. 

"  Well,  goodness  knows  I  aim  to  do  my  Christian 
duty,  free  of  prejudice,  to  every  human  being,  re- 
gardless of  the  color  of  the  skin,"  replied  Aunt 
Abigail,  with  somewhat  less  asperity.  "  But  I  have 
always  looked  upon  the  Indian  as  a  riddle  which  the 
good  Lord  only,  who  created  him  for  some  mysterious 
purpose,  has  the  key  to.  I'm  afraid  you  will  rue 
the  day  you  ever  took  one  of  the  race  to  pet  and 
pamper.  I  predict  you'll  have  a  tug  to  manage 
Dewdrop  after  this.  I  wouldn't  trust  her  too  far 
with  the  care  of  Miriam." 


THE    SHADOW   GIEL.  57 

"  0,  Auntie  !  you  can't  think  how  strange  it  seems 
to  think  of  managing  our  gentle  Dewdrop,"  Prairie 
said.  "  Why,  she  has  seemed  to  grow  up  in  her 
sweet  still  way  without  the  slightest  need  of  being 
managed.  And  with  whom,  pray,  could  we  trust 
the  precious  baby  if  not  with  our  devoted  red-browir 
girlie  who  has  always  been  completely  wrapped  up 
in  the  child  ?  " 

Aunt  Abigail  shook  her  head  three  times,  but 
made  no  further  answer. 

The  liniment  was  hidden  in  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  top  shelf,  and  Piokee  had  been  scanning  label 
after  label  on  the  bottles  standing  guard  about  it- 
Aunt  Abigail's  voice,  distinct  at  all  times,  reached 
her  where  she  stood  upon  the  chair  and  pierced 
her  like  a  two-edged  sword.  Prairie's  softl}7  spoken 
words  in  her  defense  she  did  not  hear,  and  they  would 
but  have  added  to  her  misery  had  she  heard  them. 

Yes,  the  Indian  was  cropping  out  in  her  —  she 
knew  that  to  be  true ;  and  though  she  felt  that  she 
would  willingly  lay  down  her  life  for  Miriam,  if 
need  be,  like  Aunt  Abigail  she  began  to  doubt  if 
Mamma  Prairie's  precious  baby  could  be  safely 
trusted  in  her  care. 

Dropping  from  the  chair  she  hastily  replaced  it 
in  the  dining-room,  and  went  upstairs  without  the 
liniment.  What  matter  if  she  played  the  violin 
with  fingers  tingling  with  torture  as  they  touched 


58  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

the  strings  ?  In  being  born  an  Indian  she  was 
doomed  to  pain  and  misery,  and  the  sooner  it  began 
the  sooner  she  would  cease  to  strive  against  it. 

"  How  is  the  pony?"  Prairie  asked,  stepping  to 
the  door  as  John  was  leading  Chipmunk  past  with 
Miriam  on  his  back. 

"  His  appetite  is  quite  as  good  as  ever,  and  I  can't 
discover  that  he's  ailing  in  the  least,"  said  John. 
"  Strange,  however,  that  he  should  have  been  in 
such  a  sweat.  If  it  were  not  unlikely,  I  should  think 
he  had  been  ridden  very  fast  this  morning ;  but  the 
stable  door  was  locked  as  usual,  and  not  a  man  about 
the  place  appears  to  have  been  out  before  daylight." 

"  Perhaps  his  halter  wasn't  fixed  just  right,  or 
there  was  something  else  to  fret  him  in  the  stall. 
Dewdrop  will  be  glad  to  know  he  isn't  sick,"  said 
Prairie,  much  relieved. 

As  John  passed  on  and  Prairie  shut  the  door, 
Aunt  Abigail  took  off  her  spectacles  and  polished 
them  with  care,  then  put  them  on  again,  absorbed 
in  puzzled  thought. 

Brusque  Aunt  Abigail  had  little  difficulty,  as  a 
rule,  in  managing  her  powers  of  speech,  but  as  she 
looked  at  Prairie,  briskly  finishing  the  breakfast 
dishes,  something  made  her  hesitate  to  deal  out  fur- 
ther what  was  in  her  mind. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  began  she,  drawing  near  to  Prairie, 
"  that  there  is  a  grist  of  circumstantial  evidence  to 


THE    SHADOW    GIRL.  59 

prove  " —  she  paused  abruptly.  Not  for  all  the 
world  could  she  express  her  firm  conviction  that 
"he  child  whom  Prairie  had  so  loved  and  trusted 
was  the  rider  that  had  caused  the  mystery  of  the 
morning.  What  had  called  Piokee  out  so  secretly 
at  such  a  time  surpassed  Aunt  Abigail's  vaguest 
guess,  but  she  would  wait  and  watch,  and  for  the 
present  say  no  more  about  it. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Prairie,  turning  in  some 
wonder  at  the  sudden  pause. 

"  That  cream  that  Sally's  skimming  in  the  milk- 
room  will  turn  sour  before  she  gets  it  off,"  whisked 
aside  Aunt  Abigail.  "  To  see  her  scud  about,  dodg- 
ing here  and  there  and  nowhere,  one  would  think 
she  was  a  world-wide  wonder  in  the  way  of  turning 
off  quick  work.  She  is  a  bright  and  shining  proof 
of  the  old  saying,  '  Grasp  the  world  and  catch  a 
grain  of  sand.'  " 

"  And  the  circumstantial  evidence  to  prove  that 
Sally's  cream  is  souring  is  that  she  and  Ebenezer  are 
enjoying  a  confidential  chat  upon  the  milk-room 
steps,"  said  Prairie  merrily.  "  Those  chats  have 
been  in  progress  ever  since  you  first  had  Sally  for  a 
helper  on  the  claim,  some  fourteen  years  ago.  And 
has  the  cream  been  souring  all  that  time  ?  Patient 
Auntie  and  persistent  Ebenezer  !  " 

Sally's  milk  was  skimmed,  and  she  had  started  for 
the  kitchen  with  the  cream,  when  Ebenezer  met  her 


60  PIOKEE    AND    HEK   PEOPLE. 

on  the  way.  Fleeing  backward  several  paces,  Sally 
gained  a  random  foothold  on  the  milk-room  steps, 
and  sinking  down  upon  them,  nursed  her  crock  of 
cream  with  an  abstracted  air. 

"  Heered  Mr.  Bowers  tellin'  Mis'  Bowers  'peared 
like  Chipmunk  had  been  racin'.  Do  you  reckon 
that  a  shadder  girl  would  ride  a  reel  flesh  an'  blood 
boss  ? "  she  said  to  Ebenezer,  who  pursued  her  to 
the  steps.  She  had  told  him  of  the  mystery  before. 

"  Wa-al,  I  should  say  a  sperrit  girl  would  need  a 
sperrit  boss  ter  go  a-junketin'  through  the  air  an' 
vanishin'  inter  nothin',  as  you  reckon  this  one  did. 
But  I  don't  take  much  stock  in  sperrits,  nohow. 
Bone  an'  muscle  girls  air  onaccountable  enough  fer 
me,"  with  a  reproachful  look  at  Sally,  "  an'  it  wouldn't 
be  surprisin'  if  I  hedn't  got  no  grit  ter  be  a-chasin' 
after  shadder  girls." 

"  Yes,  'twould,"  contradicted  Sally;  "you'd  chase 
a  shadder  girl  as  quick  as  any  buddy,  if  you  reckoned 
you  could  ketch  her." 

"  Wa-al,"  said  Ebenezer,  sighing  hopelessly,  "  I 
mought  say  I've  been  chasin'  somethin'  of  the  sort 
fer  fourteen  year  or  more,  an'  I  expect  ter  keep  on 
ter  my  dyin'  day,  though  'tain't  a  bit  o'  use." 

"  Yes,  'tis  —  0,  goodness  me  !  what  hev  I  said  ? 
No,  'tain't,  no,  'tain't !  "  And  Sally  scampered  to 
the  kitchen,  spilling  cream  at  every  bound. 


CHAPTEK   VII. 

THE    HOMESTEAD    CLUB'S    KEUNION. 

IN  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  Uncle  Kearn, 
Aunt  Rose  and  Dr.  Whistler  alighted  from  the 
carriage  on  the  sunny  lawn. 

"  Your  choice  :  sweetbrier  rose,  spring-beauty  or 
chrysanthemum  ?"  said  Kearn,  delivering  his  flower- 
like  wife  into  Prairie's  arms  and  capturing  two  huge 
bouquets  Rose  held  in  her  hand. 

"  Oh  !  sweetbrier  and  spring-beauty  both  in  one," 
was  Prairie's  laughing  answer.  "  You  dear  pink 
and  white  rose,  are  you  a  day  over  sixteen  ?  "  hold- 
ing Mrs.  Kearn  at  arm's-length  with  wondering 
admiration. 

"  You  dear  middle-aged  lady,  are  there  crow's-feet 
at  the  corners  of  your  eyes?"  retorted  Sweet- 
brier,  inspecting  her  rosy  sister-in-law  with  mirthful 
scrutiny. 

"  Well,  this  really  is  an  interesting  gathering," 
said  John,  appearing  on  the  lawn  and  cordially 

61 


62  PIOKEE   AND   HEE   PEOPLE. 

shaking  hands  all  around.  "  The  Homestead  Club 
is  having  a  reunion  after  fourteen  years." 

"  With  one  new  member,"  added  Kearn,  transfer- 
ring Miriam  from  Dr.  Whistler's  shoulder  to  his  own. 

"  Let's  play  we're  all  back  again  on  the  claim  — 
just  for  one  happy  little  minute,"  Prairie  wistfully 
proposed. 

"  But  wouldn't  it  be  impossible  to  put  Piokee  to 
sleep  in  the  new  pig-trough  you  confiscated  for  her 
cradle  ?  This  little  girl  has  grown  tall,"  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  drawing  Piokee  to  his  side  and  measuring 
her  height  against  his  sleeve. 

"  Dear  me,  yes  !  our  baby  has  outgrown  her  primi- 
tive cradle,"  said  Prairie,  smoothing  Piokee's  hair  with 
a  regretful  little  sigh.  "  And  I  see  that  our  young 
Indian  chief  has  forgotten  to  put  on  his  splendid 
scarlet  tunic,  and  his  wampum  belt  and  eagle-feath- 
ered cap,"  surveying,  with  a  glance  that  also  looked 
into  the  past,  the  lithe,  straight  doctor,  faultlessly 
attired  in  black,  with  a  red  rose  in  his  button-hole. 

"  But  I've  remembered  the  bow  and  arrow,"  said 
Dr.  Whistler,  and  he  took  a  handsome  set  of  arch- 
ery from  the  carriage,  waiting  on  the  driveway  to 
shed  the  baggage  tucked  away  beneath  its  ample 
seats.  "  To  Mrs.  Sparkling  Eyes,  in  memory  of 
Auld  Lang  Syne,"  bowing  with  respectful  ceremony, 
and  presenting  it  to  Prairie  as  a  wooden  wedding 
gift. 


THE    HOMESTEAD    CLUB'S    KEUNION.  63 

"  Oh !  the  pretty  treasure,"  Prairie  cried  admir- 
ingly. "  I  shall  place  it  in  the  curiosity  corner  with 
the  other  Indian  relics.  It  is  very  like  the  bow  we 
used  to  hang  on  the  oak-tree  near  the  claim-cabin, 
with  the  firm  resolve,  hands  off  —  while  we  held  a 
spelling  bee  below  the  tree.  Don't  you  remember, 
Dr.  Whistler,  how  we  sat  there  on  the  ground  with 
the  blackbirds  chattering  overhead  and  the  rabbits 
scudding  all  about  us,  and  how  hard  it  was  to  fix 
attention  on  the  stupid  book,  when  target  shooting 
was  so  much  more  to  our  taste  ?  " 

Dr.  Whistler  gave  a  retrospective  smile.  "  That  is 
one  of  the  memories  that  cling  to  us  through  life," 
said  he.  "  I  have  that  very  book  in  which  I  learned 
the  A  B  C's,  with  the  little  claim-girl  for  my 
teacher ;  "  and  he  took  a  tattered,  coverless  primer 
from  his  pocket,  viewing  it  as  if  it  were  a  treasure 
of  great  value.  "  Now,  then,  shall  we  set  up  the 
target  and  review  the  scene  of  spelling-book  versus 
bow  and  arrow,  in  real  earnest  ?  " 

"  Dear  me  !  I  should  be  completely  worsted  in  the 
trial,"  Prairie  laughingly  replied.  "I've  scarcely 
fired  an  arrow  since  I  was  a  girl  of  fourteen,  but 
you  have  worked  away  at  letters  till  you  wouldn't 
be  appalled  to  be  confronted  by  a  spelling-book  in 
several  languages." 

"  Not  to  speak  of  all  the  medical  research  by  which 
you've  gained  the  title  of  M.  D./'  said  Lawyer  Kearn. 


64  PIOKEE  AND  HEK  PEOPLE. 

"  The  hardest  work  of  all  was  right  here  on  the 
pages  of  this  simple  book,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  open- 
ing the  primer  musingly  and  turning  its  leaves  with 
tender  care. 

"  How  did  you  feel  when  you  were  toiling  over 
it  ?  Do  tell  us,"  said  Sweetbrier  Rose  with  interest. 

"  Well,  as  nearly  as  I  recollect,  I  felt  that  I  must 
'  mind  my  teacher,'  as  the  children  say,  and  not 
disgrace  myself  too  badly  in  her  view,  however 
great  my  agony  to  master  ABC.  Strange  to  say, 
I  didn't  care  a  whit  for  all  the  learning  in  creation 
till  the  little  claim-girl  thoroughly  convinced  me  by 
her  missionary  zeal  that  she  was  deeply  interested 
in  my  welfare.  Her  approval  was  the  sugar  coating 
to  the  pill  of  application,  which  I  swallowed  with  a 
wry  face  and  much  savage  grumbling.  I  suspect, 
too,  that  the  tomahawk  cookies  that  she  used  to 
bake  for  me  did  much  toward  awakening  my  dor- 
mant intellect,"  he  added,  with  a  smile  that  showed 
his  strong  white  teeth.  "  Do  you  remember,  Mrs. 
Sparkling  Eyes,  how  they  increased  in  size  as  I  pro- 
gressed in  •  knowledge  ?  The  longer  the  word  I 
spelled  correctly,  the  longer  the  handle  to  the  toma- 
hawk and  the  more  murderous  the  blade." 

There  was  a  hearty  laugh  all  round  at  this  delight- 
ful reminiscence  of  the  learned  physician's  boyish 
struggles  with  the  dog-eared  spelling-book. 

"  Ah  me !  I  fear  I  was  a  very  inconsistent  mis- 


THE   HOMESTEAD    CLUB*S    REUNION.  65 

sionary,"  answered  Prairie,  as  the  merriment  sub- 
sided ;  "  I  should  have  chosen  a  less  warlike  symbol 
than  a  tomahawk  in  which  to  put  my  '  sugar  and 
spice  and  everything  nice '  for  a  wild  Indian  boy's 
reward  of  merit.  It  is  a  wonder  that  I  didn't  start 
you  on  the  warpath,  Dr.  Whistler,  instead  of  luring 
you  into  the  peaceful  paths  of  study." 

Miriam  had  alighted  from  Ream's  shoulder  to 
seize  the  bow  with  rapture,  and  her  eagerness  to 
speed  an  arrow  could  no  longer  be  restrained. 

"  Please  show  me  how  to  fire  'e  pwetty  shooter, 
Mr.  Doctor,"  she  implored. 

"  Well,  wee  yellow  hair,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  drop- 
ping on  one  knee  beside  her,  "  will  you  aim  your 
arrow  at  the  sun,  or  at  a  bird  upon  the  wing  ?  " 

"  I  fink  I'll  aim  at  my  dear  papa,"  was  her  safe 
conclusion.  "  I  mustn't  hit  him  for  'e  world,  but 
I  must  miss  him  near  enough  to  make  him  jump." 

John  hid  behind  a  tree  in  mock  alarm,  and  Miriam, 
wild  with  glee,  let  fly  the  arrow.  It  missed  the 
tree  by  several  yards,  but  papa  jumped  into  the  air 
to  carry  out  the  programme,  and  executed  several 
frantic  leaps  thereafter,  as  if  the  arrow  still  pursued 
him.  Miriam  screamed  with  laughter,  enjoying  the 
archery  sport  as  hugely  as  her  mother  used  to  when 
she  was  the  little  claim-girl. 

After  Miriam  was  satisfied,  the  bow  and  arrow 
went  the  rounds,  and  all  except  Piokee  tried  their 


66  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

skill  in  firing  at  the  target.  She  did  not  touch  the 
bow,  but,  standing  somewhat  separate  from  the  rest, 
watched  the  sport  with  an  abstracted  gaze  that  Dr. 
Whistler  did  not  fail  to  notice. 

The  senior  member  of  the  Homestead  Club,  Grand- 
papa Wilde,  had  now  come  over  from  his  farm  to 
welcome  Kearn  and  Rose  and  Dr.  Whistler,  and  the 
meeting  on  the  lawrn  adjourned. 

On  their  way  toward  the  house,  Dr.  Whistler 
dropped  behind  the  rest  and  waited  for  Piokee,  com- 
ing slowly  up  the  walk  alone. 

"  Piokee  used  to  like  the  bow  and  arrow.  Can  it 
be  she  has  lost  interest  in  the  sport  ? "  he  asked 
with  some  surprise,  falling  into  step  beside  her. 

"  Yes,  my  chief,"  she  answered  listlessly.  "  I 
think  T  shall  never  care  for  any  kind  of  sport  again." 

Piokee  had  a  quaint,  respectful  way  of  calling  Dr. 
Whistler  "  my  chief."  This  Prairie  had  taken  care 
to  teach  her  just  as  soon  as  she  was  old  enough  to 
lisp  the  words.  It  was  in  recognition  of  the  tribal 
title  that  had  vanished  with  the  scattering  of  his 
father's  band. 

No  sooner  had  Piokee  made  this  answer  than  she 
wished  she  could  recall  it,  for  Dr.  Whistler  stopped 
abruptly  and,  wheeling  round  before  her  on  the 
walk,  looked  at  her  with  a  professional  air,  saying 
very  gravely  : 

"  I  think  you  need  some  liver  powders,  or  per- 


THE   HOMESTEAD   CLUB'S   REUNION.  67 

haps  a  tonic  for  your  nerves.  It  is  something  new 
for  you  to  be  low-spirited." 

"  0,  no,  indeed !  There's  not  the  slightest  need 
of  any  medicine,"  replied  Piokee,  startled  by  his 
searching  gaze  that  seemed  to  look  into  her  mind 
as  if  to  read  the  cause  of  her  disquietude.  "  I'll 
play  all  sorts  of  games  and  exercise  all  day,  if  you 
won't  go  to  doctoring  me,"  she  promised,  with  a 
frantic  effort  to  shake  off  the  mopes. 

"  I  must  inquire  of  Mamma  Prairie  about  the 
books  and  music,"  he  went  on,  regardless  of  her  pro- 
test. "  She  is  too  wise  to  let  you  overtax  yourself 
with  study,  under  her  tuition,  if  she  knows  it ;  but 
I  am  inclined  to  think  you  need  a  long  vacation." 

Piokee  shuddered  in  heart,  thinking  of  the  long 
vacation  whose  beginning  might  be  near.  There 
rose  before  her  mind  a  picture  of  the  Indian  village 
she  had  flitted  through  while  on  a  wondering,  half- 
frightened  visit  to  her  people,  years  before,  and  she 
saw  herself  as  one  of  its  inhabitants :  the  men  and 
boys  strolling  listlessly  about,  or  lolling  in  the  sun, 
the  girls  and  women  working  stolidly,  or  chattering 
empty  tattle,  all  without  one  bright  inspiring  thought 
of  books  or  the  society  of  chosen  friends. 

Surely  there  could  be  no  peaceful  study  hours, 
no  self-improvement  in  the  midst  of  such  surround- 
ings, even  if  the  precious  books  and  violin  went- 
with  her  when  the  loved  teachers  were  forsaken. 


68  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

The  quick  dissolving  vision  vanished  in  mid-air, 
and  left  her  standing  on  the  sunny  lawn  with  Dr. 
Whistler. 

"  Oh !  please  don't  speak  to  Mamma  Prairie ;  it 
would  worry  her,"  she  begged,  more  and  more  dis- 
mayed that  she  had  given  Dr.  Whistler  a  hint  of 
her  distress.  "I'm  going  very  slow  in  everything  ; 
Caesar  is  only  at  war  with  the  Belgians  in  Latin, 
and  Cleopatra  has  just  been  bitten  by  the  asp  in 
history.  I'm  scanning  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  in 
English  poetry,  and  am  stuck  fast  not  half-way 
through  the  algebra.  I'm  in  the  third  position  on 
the  violin,  and  have  been  practicing  a  piece  I  am  to 
play  to-night  the  best  I  can." 

"That  is  not  so  bad  as  I  expected,"  answered  Dr. 
Whistler,  with  a  smile,  "  unless  the  quagmire  in  the 
algebra  has  caused  too  great  a  mental  strain.  I 
feared  that  you  were  too  ambitious  to  be  ready  for 
the  Eastern  school,  and  were  taking  long  lessons  in 
too  many  books.  The  school  must  wait  till  you  can 
enter  it  without  taxation.  You  will  need  a  vigor- 
ous mind  and  perfect  health  to  fit  you  to  become  a 
missionary  to  our  people.  That  is  your  chosen  life- 
work,  is  it  not  ?  " 

She  was  saved  from  answering,  for  "  Little  Annie 
Rooney  "  burst  upon  the  ear  in  airy  strains  just 
then,  and  Ebenezer  hurried  from  the  stable,  taking 
long  strides  toward  the  house. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    CHARIOT. 

££  TT'S  the  Tan-an'-freckle  Soap-an'-di'mon'  char- 
JL     lot,  that's   travelin'    through  •  the  country ; 
Sally's  got  my  money  under  lock  an'  key,"  was  the 
information  Ebenezer  flung  out  in  passing. 

There  now  appeared  in  sight  a  gayly  decorated 
but  extremely  dusty  chariot,  whose  pair  of  fagged- 
out  horses  plucked  up  sudden  energy  in  coming 
through  the  gate,  bearing  down  on  the  tenant  house 
like  capering  colts,  and  rattling  the  chariot  like  a 
charge  of  musketry.  The  musicians,  an  accordion 
girl  and  banjo  boy,  bounced  upon  their  throne, 
clutched  the  pillars  to  the  canopy  for  a  support, 
and  "Little  Annie  Rooney,"  with  a  few  expiring 
squeaks,  was  choked  off  in  the  middle  of  the  chorus. 
It  chanced  to  be  a  caucus  day  throughout  the 
county,  and  the  chariot  was  decked  with  a  bewilder- 
ing array  of  stars  and  stripes  that  charmed  the  pa- 
triotic eyes  of  quite  a  cavalcade  of  farmers'  boys, 


70  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

who  had  been  falling  into  line  behind  it  all  along 
the  way. 

There  was  an  instant  ripple  of  excitement  on  the 
ranch,  for  a  peddler's  wagon  of  such  smart  preten- 
sions was  a  novel  sight  in  this  locality.  Stout  Mrs. 
Biddle  waddled  out  to  meet  the  show  with  flurried 
wonder,  thither  Ebenezer  escorted  Sally,  and  the 
hired  men,  just  home  from  voting  at  the  caucus, 
gathered  round  it. 

"  Oh !  please  take  me  over  to  'e  pwetty  circus, 
Dewdwop  —  quick  !  quick  1  "  cried  Miriam,  dancing 
down  the  steps  of  the  piazza. 

"  Well,  run  along,  but  keep  to  one  side,  and  be 
careful  not  to  let  the  elephant  toss  you  up,"  laughed 
John. 

When  Piokee  reached  the  spot  with  Miriam,  the 
peddler  was  setting  forth  the  merits  of  the  Tan-and- 
freckle  Soap. 

"  The  Tan-an '-freckle  Soap,  ladies  an'  gentlemen, 
is  the  wonder  of  the  age.  Why,  gentlemen,  if  I 
was  in  the  habit  of  exaggeratin'  I  might  say  'twould 
take  the  spots  off  of  a  bird's-eye  maple  door,  sayin' 
nothin'  of  the  blemishes  on  the  sun  an'  wind-kissed 
faces  of  yer  most  admired  young  lady  friends  with 
otherwise  beautyous  complexions." 

Here  Ebenezer  glanced  at  Sally,  who  tossed  her 
head  and  turned  away  to  hide  a  conscious  blush ; 
and  the  accordion  girl,  whose  thickly  spattered 


THE    CHARIOT.  71 

freckles  were  so  many  wondering  little  "  o's  "  ex- 
claiming at  the  peddler  for  daring  to  impart  such 
merit  to  the  soap,  fixed  her  twinkling  eyes  on 
Piokee  and  smothered  an  uprising  giggle. 

"  Only  twenty-five  cents  a  cake,  an'  a  prize  pack- 
age with  a  piece  of  rare  Eureky  di'mon'  jewelry, 
throwed  in  !  Wake  up,  gentlemen,  an'  buy  a  pres- 
ent for  yer  lady  friends.  If  yer  so  unfortunate  that 
you  hain't  got  no  lady  friends,  you  can  use  the  soap 
to  keep  yer  heads  an'  whiskers  thick  and  shiny." 

The  soap  found  ready  sale,  notwithstanding  the 
accordion  girl's  complexion,  for  the  "  diamond  jew- 
elry "  was  a  tempting  bait  that  allured  many 
nibblera. 

"  We'll  give  ye  some  more  soul-stirrin'  music  per- 
resently,"  remarked  the  peddler,  while  dealing  out 
the  soap.  "  You  must  excuse  the  absence  of  a 
fiddle ;  I'm  on  the  lookout  fer  a  girl-performer  to 
jine  our  or-ches'try  an'  be  comp'ny  fer  my  daugh- 
ter. These  yer  musicians  air  my  son  an'  daughter, 
ladies  an'  gentlemen.  We're  a  trav'lin'  fambly,  as 
it  ware." 

"  Ye  oughter  hear  Miss  Dewdrop  play  the  fiddle," 
said  Ebenezer,  pointing  to  Piokee  with  the  silver 
dollar  he  was  handing  up  for  four  cakes  of  soap  and 
the  included  prize  packages. 

The  peddler  turned  his  glance  on  Piokee  with  an 
instant  eye  to  business. 


72  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  Look  here,"  said  he,  with  animation,  seeing  that 
she  was  an  Indian  girl.  "  I'll  offer  you  a  good  big 
salary  to  travel  South  with  us  dressed  up  in  Injun 
toggery  as  a  fiddlin'  ghost  dancer." 

'•  Oh!  "  said  she,  "I  couldn't  be  a  ghost  dancer, 
for  I  don't  believe  in  the  Indian  Messiah.  But  I 
could  wear  an  Indian  costume  and  play  the  violin," 
thinking  for  an  instant  that  in  this  way  she  might 
earn  enough  to  pay  her  father  another  ransom. 
"Though  of  course  I  couldn't  go  —  they  would 
never  let  me  —  Mamma  Prairie  and  the  rest,"  she 
immediately  bethought  herself. 

"No,  no!"  cried  Miriam  in  alarm.  "My  Dew- 
dwop  couldn't  go  off  wiv  'e  circus  —  no  indeed." 

"  Wa-al,  don't  be  too  sartin,"  said  the  peddler. 
"  We're  goin'  on  beyond,  an'  shall  be  back  in  some- 
thin'  like  two  weeks.  You  can  talk  with  them  that 
has  the  say  so,  an'  may  be  we  can  strike  a  bargain. 
But  it  must  be  fair  an'  square.  I  don't  incourage 
no  e-lopements  like  some  travelin'  charioteers,"  and 
he  again  became  absorbed  in  the  disposal  of  his 
wares. 

Slipping  down  from  her  position  on  the  dry-goods 
box  that  formed  the  throne,  the  accordion  girl 
dropped  into  a  vacant  niche  below  the  dashboard, 
where  she  drew  Piokee  to  her  by  a  telegram  from 
her  twinkling  eyes,  while  the  soap  was  being  dealt 
out  from  the  rear. 


THE    CHARIOT.  73 

"  Don't  you  go  a  single  step.  It's  horrid,"  whis- 
pered she,  bending  over  till  the  tassel  of  her  red 
cap  brushed  Piokee's  head.  "  The  customers  would 
stare  at  you,  an'  you  would  have  to  eat  cold  beans 
an'  camp  out  like  a  gypsy,  when  we  couldn't  strike 
a  town  in  time.  Then,  too,  Sammy  sometimes  has 
a  spell,  right  while  he's  playin'  the  banjo,  an'  leaps 
clear  out  of  the  chariot,  an'  scares  the  customers, 
an'  spoils  the  trade." 

"  Poor  boy  !  does  he  have  fits  ? "  Piokee  asked, 
with  a  pitying  look  at  the  youth  upon  the  throne, 
who  leaned  his  elbows  on  his  banjo  in  an  absent- 
minded  way,  and  seemed  to  search  the  firmament 
with  his  eyes. 

"  Only  trances.  He's  in  first-rate  health,"  re- 
sponded the  accordion  girl.  "  Nothin'  ails  him  but 
his  second  sight.  He's  a  mind  reader  —  Sammy  is. 
Some  folks  thinks  he  makes  it  all,  but  if  anything 
was  worryin'  you  distracted,  I  reckon  he  could  tell 
exactly  what  it  was  by  lookin'  at  you." 

"  Oh  !  don't  let  him  —  how  dreadful !  "  said  Pio- 
kee, turning  her  back  on  the  hawk-eyed  banjo  boy, 
in  conscious  dread  that  he  might  ferret  out  her 
secret. 

"  No  danger  now  ;  Sammy  can't  do  anything  un- 
less he  has  a  spell,"  the  accordion  girl  composedly 
assured  her.  "  He  goes  by  fits  an'  starts,  you  see. 
Pa  says  if  he  could  be  depended  on,  there'd  be  a 


74          PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

fortune  in  that  second  sight  of  hisn.  Well,  I  like 
your  looks,  and  you'd  be  company  for  me,  but  pa  is 
apt  to  make  big  promises  he  can't  carry  out.  If  he 
should  invest  in  you,  an'  pay  you,  'twould  eat  up 
all  the  profits  an'  there'd  be  nothin'  to  send  home 
to  ma  an'  the  other  six  children,  down  in  Texas. 
If  he  didn't  pay  you,  pins  an'  needles  would  be 
stickin'  me  to  think  how  you  was  bein'  cheated." 

"  Please  don't  let  'e  music  girl  whisper  in  your 
ear,"  begged  Miriam,  clinging  to  Piokee's  dress  in 
wonder  at  the  stifled  interview.  "  Is  she  coaxing 
you  to  go  away  wiv  her  ?  "  wide-eyed  with  terror  at 
the  thought.  "  Oh !  I  must  take  my  Dewdwop 
home.  I'm  afwaid  to  twust  her  wiv  vis  kind  of 
circus,"  and  she  bore  Piokee  off  in  trembling  haste, 
while  the  accordion  girl,  with  a  farewell  nod, 
remounted  the  throne. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE   WOODEN   WEDDING.    • 

"TTERY  early  in  the  evening,  before  the  wedding 
V  guests  began  to  gather,  Piokee  came  down- 
stairs with  restless  feet  to  hie  away  into  her  favorite 
nook  in  a  wing  beyond  the  parlors,  where  were  kept 
the  books,  some  mineral  cabinets,  and  a  store  of 
Indian  curiosities. 

Piokee  wore  a  gown  of  yellow  silk,  with  ribbons 
of  the  same  bright  color  fluttering  down  the  skirt, 
from  beneath  a  silver  girdle  round  her  waist.  There 
were  coils  of  silver  on  her  arms,  and  several  strands 
of  silver  beads  around  her  neck.  A  frost-work  ar- 
row pierced  her  braided  hair,  and  there  were  filigree 
buckles  on  the  dainty  slippers  on  her  slender  feet. 
These  rather  barbaric  but  becoming  ornaments  were 
a  gift  from  Dr.  Whistler,  who  liked  to  see  his  dusky 
little  friend  as  brilliantly  attired  as  came  within  the 
bounds  of  civilized  taste. 

"  Hum  !  "  observed  Aunt  Abigail,  who  was  in  the 

75 


76  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

dining-room  with  Prairie,  and  saw  Piokee  as  she 
flitted  downstairs ;  "  a  brown  alpaca  would  have 
been  more  suitable  for  this  occasion.  I  wonder, 
Prairie,  that  you'll  gratify  a  craving  for  such  savage 
finery.  You  should  make  an  effort  to  subdue  the 
Indian  in  Dewdrop ;  though  of  course  that  is  as 
fixed  as  the  eternal  hills,  never  to  be  blotted  out." 

"  0,  Auntie  !  don't,"  begged  Prairie  softly.  "  She 
looks  so  pretty  —  like  a  brightrwinged  bird.  I  hope 
she  didn't  hear  you ;  it  would  spoil  her  pleasure  in 
the  lovely  costume." 

Pursued  by  the  penetrating  voice,  that  all  too 
surely  pierced  her  heart,  Piokee  fled  across  the 
empty  back  parlor  to  the  curiosity  room,  and  drew 
the  drapery  across  the  doorway  with  a  sweeping 
rush,  as  if  to  shut  the  whole  world  from  her  view. 

She  stopped  before  a  mirror  hung  between  two 
cabinets,  and  viewed  herself  from  head  to  foot. 
She  felt  as  if  she  had  awakened  from  a  life-long 
dream  to  find  that  she  was  not  herself,  but  some 
one  else  whom  she  abhorred.  And  there  was  her 
rebellious  image  looking  at  her  from  the  glass, 
haughtily  erect,  with  a  defiant  frown  beneath  the 
straight  black  bangs,  with  curling  lips  and  burning, 
coal-black  eyes. 

"  Oh  !  you  hateful,  hateful  thing  !  You  are  an 
Indian,  and  I  despise  you,"  she  ejaculated  in  a  vehe- 
ment undertone.  "  It  doesn't  make  one  bit  of  dif- 


!  OH  !    YOU  HATEFUL,    HATEFUL  THING  !  "   SHE   EJACULATED. 


THE    WOODEN    WEDDING.  79 

ference  if  you  have  been  loved,  and  taught,  and 
prayed  for  all  your  life,  just  as  if  you  were  the 
dearest  white  girl ;  you're  a  savage  Indian,  all  the 
same.  Why,  don't  you  know  an  Indian's  nature  is 
as  fixed  as  the  eternal  hills,  and  you  must  be  sly, 
and  treacherous,  and  selfish,  and  revengeful,  how- 
ever hard  you  twist  and  turn  and  try  to  run  away 
from  it  ?  Oh  !  you  can't  escape  the  doom  of  all 
your  race,  and  you  needn't  look  so  fierce,  as  if 
you'd  like  to  jump  right  out  of  there  and  kill  me  on 
the  spot  for  saying  so.  If  you  were  to  die  for  it 
you  couldn't  be  true  to  Mamma  Prairie,  nor  loyal 
to  your  own  people  ;  and  if  you  would  deceive  the 
dearest,  sweetest  friend  that  ever  took  a  starving 
baby  to  her  heart,  and  hate  your  own  flesh  and 
blood,  what  wouldn't  you  do,  I  wonder  ?  You  pre- 
tend to  fairly  worship  darling  little  Miriam,  but  I 
shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  you'd  just  love  to 
torture  her  —  yes  —  torture  —  Miriam  !  And  worst 
of  all,  you  look  as  if  you  didn't  care  one  bit  if  you 
•are  made  of  stone,  you  hard,  hard  Indian." 

Piokee  paused  for  breath,  still  viewing  her  rebel- 
lious image  with  a  merciless  gaze. 

Another  figure,  stepping  from  a  curtained  alcove, 
suddenly  appeared  beside  hers  in  the  mirror.  It 
was  Dr.  Whistler,  who  had  been  visiting  the  curi- 
osity corner,  and  adding  to  it  some  new  relics. 

He  stood  quite  still  awhile,  surveying  the  now 


80  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

startled  little  image  in  the  yellow  gown  with  flutter- 
ing ribbons  in  a  half-amused,  half-puzzled  way. 

"  Piokee  does  quite  well  at  amateur  theatricals," 
he  presently  remarked.  "I  should  say,  that  her 
original  drama  is  entitled  i  The  Soliloquy  of  the 
Indian's  Bad  Heart.' " 

"  Oh !  did  you  hear  it  all  ?  "  said  she,  shrinking 
hastily  aside  and  drawing  her  reflection  from  the 
mirror.  "  No  ;  I  wasn't  practicing  theatricals,"  she 
faltered,  the  red  blood  surging  over  her  dusky  face. 
"I  meant  it,  every  word.  I  really  had  the  bad 
heart  when  I  talked  that  way." 

Dr.  Whistler  knit  his  brows  as  if  confronted  by  a 
problem  he  was  at  a  loss  to  answer. 

"So  that  is  the  cause  of  the  low  spirits  that  I 
fancied  called  for  liver  powders  and  a  tonic  for  the 
nerves.  Poor  little  girl !  "  he  took  Piokee's  hand  in 
a  protecting  way ;  "  what  cruel  blow  has  fallen  on 
your  bright  young  life  to  teach  you  what  I  learned 
so  long  ago,  that  it  is  no  happy  fate  to  be  an 
Indian  ?  " 

She  could  not  carry  her  confession  further,  and 
tell  him  all  that  had  transpired  within  the  last  two 
days,  and  he  was  left  to  wonder  at  the  change  in 
her. 

"  I  see,"  observed  he  as  she  did  not  speak,  but 
stood  with  downcast  eyes,  "  that  Piokee's  soul  is 
in  revolt  against  the  poor  Indian.  She  has  joined 


THE    WOODEN    WEDDING.  81 

hands  with  the  white  man,  and  would  hunt  him 
down  and  drive  him  from  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  Yes,"  she  owned,  almost  in  a  whisper ;  "  you 
will  think  me  dreadfully  disloyal  to  our  race,  my 
chief,  and  I  used  to  think  I  was  so  proud  to  be 
an  Indian ;  but  I  wish,  oh  !  I  wish  so  much  that  I 
were  a  white  girl.  I'm  ashamed  to  be  an  Indian," 
she  burst  out  impetuously,  thinking  of  the  terrible 
father,  with  the  ghastly  row  of  dangling  dolls  about 
his  scalp-lock. 

"  Nevertheless,  the  Indian  is  a  fixed  fact,  and  you 
will  have  to  make  the  best  of  it,"  said  Dr.  Whistler 
very  gravely,  almost  sternly.  After  a  little  pause 
he  said,  more  gently  : 

"  It  is  one  of  life's  hard  questions  we  must  bravely 
face,  Piokee,  why  you  and  I  are  destined  to  belong 
to  that  unfortunate  race  whom  all  except  a  few 
good  men  and  women,  called  humanitarians,  regard 
as  utterly  incurable  vagabonds.  And  worst  of  all 
is  this  mysterious  Indian  nature,  which  requires 
harder  fighting  than  the  most  merciless  white  man 
that  has  ever  been  our  foe.  You  have  confessed  to 
me,  Piokee,  that  you  are  ashamed  to  be  an  Indian, 
and  I  will  return  the  confidence  by  saying  that  I  am 
at  heart  as  great  a  vagabond  as  any  of  those  reck- 
less scamps  who  are  to-night  engaging  in  the  ghost 
dance  in  Dakota." 

"What,  you,  my  chief  ? "  exclaimed  Piokee,  look- 


82  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

ing  in  amazement  at  the  civilized  doctor,  standing 
victoriously  erect,  but  smiling  gloomily,  as  if  review- 
ing a  doubtful  conquest.  "  I  didn't  think  you  ever 
wanted,  for  a  single  half-instant,  to  be  like  those 
dreadful  men." 

"  I  don't  want  to,  and,  God  helping  me,  I  never 
will  be,"  was  his  solemn  answer ;  "  but  I  sometimes 
feel  I  must.  Like  you  and  your  reflection  in  the 
mirror  you  were  so  emphatically  denouncing,  there 
are  two  of  me.  My  counterpart  is  a  Black  Hawk 
Indian  "  — 

"  0,  Dewdrop !  here  you  are,"  cried  Floy,  who 
swept  aside  the  drapery  at  the  door,  and  burst  into 
the  room,  a  radiant  vision  in  pale  blue. 

She  stopped  with  some  embarrassment  on  seeing 
Dr.  Whistler,  wrhom  she  had  never  met.  She  had 
fancied  she  should  stand  somewhat  in  awe  of  this 
peculiar  combination  of  a  "  real  live  Indian  "  and  a 
civilized  doctor. 

Finding  him  a  grave  but  cordial  gentleman,  whose 
smile  was  most  attractive,  and  whose  "  eagle  eyes," 
as  she  had  pictured  them,  were  stern  or  gentle  as 
the  case  demanded,  she  was  soon  at  ease  and  chat- 
ting  merrily  away  with  him. 

"  My  cousin  Ellery  is  here,  all  on  tiptoe  to  be  in- 
troduced to  you,"  she  presently  announced.  "And 
my  sister  Priscilla  wants  to  hear  you  talk.  She  says 
she  means  to  keep  within  a  listening  distance  of  you 


THE    WOODEN   WEDDING.  83 

all  the  evening ;  but,  dear  me  !  I  shouldn't  have 
told  you  that,"  and  Floy  blushed  brightly.  "  Please 
don't  feel  annoyed  if  we  buzz  around  you  asking 
ever  so  many  curious  questions.  Of  course  we  shall 
know  better,  but  I'm  afraid  we  just  can't  help  it,  we 
are  all  so  interested  in  the  Indian  problem.  Later 
in  the  evening,  when  we  are  all  together,  we'd  like 
to  hear  about  that  Black  Hawk  Indian  you  were 
speaking  of  when  I  came  in  —  your  partner,  I  think 
you  called  him,"  was  her  startling  request. 

"  You  would  not  care  to  know  him,"  Dr.  Whistler 
said  evasively.  "  I  avoid  him  all  I  can,  but  owing 
to  our  peculiar  relations  I  am  sometimes  forced  to 
meet  him  face  to  face." 

And  with  an  odd  smile,  that  increased  Floy's  in- 
terest to  hear  about  the  Black  Hawk  Indian,  he  dis- 
missed the  subject,  and  escorted  the  girls  to  the 
parlors,  where  the  company  were  now  gathering. 

They  were  pleasant,  well-dressed  people  from  the 
neighboring  farms  and  ranches  and  the  little  town  a 
few  miles  distant.  Priscilla,  Floy  and  Ellery  were 
the  only  young  guests,  as  the  party  was  for  older 
ones.  Priscilla  was  a  slender,  brown-haired  girl, 
whose  dress  of  silver  gray  well  became  her  dove-like 
face. 

In  joining  the  company,  Piokee  strove  hard  to 
forget  her  trouble  for  the  evening,  and  was  as  calm 
as  usual,  and  apparently  as  cheerful. 


84  PIOKEE   AND    HEK   PEOPLE. 

The  bouquet  of  feathers  audaciously  peeped  from 
beneath  the  lapel  of  Ellery's  dress  coat,  and  tucked 
into  a  fold  of  Piokee's  gown,  beneath  her  girdle, 
was  the  college  badge  ;  but  there  appeared  to  be  no 
mutual  recognition  as  the  two  were  introduced. 

Ellery  was  vastly  more  at  ease  with  civilized  Pio- 
kee  than  he  had  been  with  the  wild  young  squaw, 
and  betrayed  no  curiosity  when  face  to  face  with 
this  new,  interesting  type  of  Indian  girl  Prairie  had 
developed  from  the  vagabond  race. 

When  Piokee  played  the  violin,  drawing  out  of  it 
the  sweet  old-time  strains  of  "  The  Blue  Juniata," 
Ellery  turned  her  music  in  the  most  attentive  man- 
ner, and  watched  her  graceful  bowing  with  well-bred 
admiration,  but  without  surprise. 

At  last  he  said,  "  I  met  Bright  Alfarata  yesterday." 

"  Did  you,  really  ?  How  could  she  leave  the  Blue 
Juniata  ?  "  said  Piokee,  with  a  gleam  of  mischief. 

"  The  Government  has  broken  another  treaty,  and 
driven  her  away,"  said  Ellery,  with  responsive  mis- 
chief. "  Never  more  will  she  paddle  her  i  light 
canoe  adown  the  rapid  river/  She  has  come  West 
to  settle  on  a  new  reservation." 

"  '  Loose  were  her  jetty  locks, 
In  wavy  tresses  flowing,' 

when  I  was  introduced  to  her  on  Uncle  Fred's  piazza. 
She  wears  them  in  a  braid  to-night,  and  her  wild- 


THE   WOODEN   WEDDING.  85 

wood  costume  is  exchanged  for  a  bewildering  even- 
ing dress;  but  I  know  her  by  her  unmistakable 
self-poise  and  her  Beacon  Street  bow.  That  was  a 
merciless  joke  you  perpetrated  yesterday,  Miss  Dew- 
drop,  on  a  trusting  Freshman,  pining  for  a  glimpse 
of  the  untutored  savage." 

"  Do  forgive  me,  and  swapee  back  again,"  begged 
Piokee,  holding  out  the  charm. 

"  Yes,  and  no,"  was  Ellery's  laughing  answer. 
"I  will  try  to  cultivate  a  forgiving  spirit,  but  it 
was  a  fair  trade,  and  I  shall  insist  on  keeping  my 
bouquet.  Priscilla  has  a  Houdan  rooster  wearing 
feathers  very  much  like  mine,  but  for  all  that  I  con- 
sider him  a  curious  bird,"  amiably  acknowledging 
the  playful  fraud  of  which  he  was  the  victim. 

Floy  came  back  to  find  the  charm  attached  to 
Piokee's  necklace,  and  the  two  ensconced  in  the  bay 
window,  engaged  in  interesting  conversation. 

"  Oh !  then  he  did  know  you  all  the  time ;  you 
have  settled  scores,"  said  she,  taking  in  the  situation 
at  a  glance.  "  Did  you  suspect  before  you  came 
here,  Ellery,  that  the  wild  young  squaw  was  Piis- 
cilla's  pet  violinist  she  had  told  you  so  much  about  ? " 

"  Well,"  said  Ellery,  "  in  pondering  on  the  sub- 
ject, I  could  but  wonder  if  the  rage  for  russet  shoes, 
such  as  I  observed  Bright  Alfarata  wore,  had  struck 
the  reservation,  and  if  a  barber  trimmed  the  bangs 
of  all  the  wild  young  squaws.  Then  the  Houdan 


86          PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

rooster's  plumage,  and  my  singular  uneasiness  be- 
neath Bright  Alfarata's  civilized  gaze,  which  she 
could  not  disguise,  also  helped  enlighten  me." 

"  I  see  you're  learning  something  more  about  the 
Indian  problem  every  day,"  laughed  Floy.  "  Now, 
then,  Dr.  Whistler  is  in  the  curiosity  room,  talking 
with  Priscilla  all  alone,  and  if  we  make  a  raid  on 
him,  I'm  sure  we  can  persuade  him  to  tell  us  about 
that  Black  Hawk  Indian." 

"  Oh !  don't  ask  him,"  said  Piokee,  greatly  startled. 
"He  would  be  displeased,  and  you  can't  imagine 
how  he'd  frighten  you  if  he  looked  stern." 

"  No  ;  I  can't  imagine  Dr.  Whistler  as  a  frightful 
monster,"  answered  Floy  composedly.  "  But  why 
should  he  look  stern  about  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  ?  " 
opening  her  eyes  with  wonder. 

"  Because,"  said  Piokee,  hesitating  whether  she 
should  say  it,  but  intent  on  stopping  Floy  at  all 
events,  "  it  is  the  other  side  of  himself." 

Floy  looked  puzzled  for  an  instant ;  then  she  burst 
into  a  merry  little  peal  of  laughter. 

"Well,  the  right  side  is  so  splendid  the  wrong 
side  must  be  noble,  too,"  she  said.  "  I  mean  to  find 
out  if  he's  like  a  three-ply  carpet  —  good  to  turn, 
when  one  gets  tired  of  the  same  thing  over  and 
over."  And  away  she  flew. 

Piokee  and  Ellery  remained  in  the  bay  window. 
Presently  Floy  came  back  triumphant. 


THE    WOODEN    WEDDING.  87 

"  Come,  I've  won  him  over,"  she  announced. 

They  found  Priscilla  looking  shocked  at  Floy's 
audacity  in  dragging  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  from 
his  ambuscade,  but  Dr.  Whistler  looked  simply 
amused,  and  did  not  seem  so  averse  to  humoring 
Floy  as  Piokee  had  expected. 

"  I  warn  you,  Miss  Floy,"  said  he,  "  that  you  will 
recoil  in  horror  from  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  ;  but 
since  you  have  a  strong  desire  to  meet  him,  it  may 
be  the  surest  way  to  cure  you  of  your  interest  in 
the  revengeful  fellow  by  bringing  him  before  you 
for  one  minute." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    BLACK    HAWK   INDIAN. 

••  ~l\/¥" Y  counterpart's  first  memory,"  began  Dr. 

JLV_L     Whistler,    "  is   of    his   mother's   lullaby, 

soothing  him  to  sleep  with  a  recital  of  the  brave 

deeds  of  his  ancestor,  the  great  chief  Black  Hawk. 

" i  Go  to  sleep,  my  boy,'  ran  the  lullaby,  i  your 
great  forefather  was  a  mighty  warrior.  He  told  his 
young  men. that  the  Indian's  war-path  is  a  long  way 
through  a  thick  wood,  where  the  trees  are  like  the 
stars  in  number — go  to  sleep,  my  boy.  On  every 
tree  is  marked  a  picture  of  a  white  man's  bad  deed 
to  the  Indian.  For  every  wrong  the  Indian  must 
take  a  white  man's  scalp  —  go  to  sleep,  my  boy. 
When  there  are  not  men  enough  to  pay  the  debt, 
the  pale-faced  women  must  be  seized  as  captives; 
and  the  frightened  children  torn  from  mother's 
arms  —  go  to  sleep,  my  boy. 

"  '  Go  to  sleep,  my  boy  —  your  great  forefather 
and  his  braves  no  longer  tread  the  war-path.  Their 


THE    BLACK   HAWK    INDIAN.  89 

sons  and  grandsons  have  been  conquered  by  the 
white  man,  who  has  slain  the  deer  and  buffalo,  and 
robbed  the  Indian  of  his  hunting  grounds — go  to 
sleep,  my  boy.  Your  father  is  no  longer  chief. 
His  head  is  bowed  with  shame  that  you,  his  strong 
young  son,  will  have  no  band  to  rule,  and  will  be 
powerless  to  avenge  the  wrongs  that  you  have  suf- 
fered from  the  white  man  —  go  to  sleep,  my  boy.' 

"  Thus  ran  the  lullaby,  on  and  on,  until  the  boy 
fell  asleep  to  dream  of  the  glories  of  the  war-path, 
and  of  wreaking  vengeance  on  the  red  man's  foe. 

"  When  he  was  still  a  little  lad  he  saw  his  people 
driven  from  their  lands  in  Kansas,  as  they  had  been 
driven  from  another  reservation  across  the  Missis- 
sippi years  before.  The  little  Black  Hawk  Indian 
staid  behind  with  his  rebellious  father,  who  clung  to 
the  old  reservation,  refusing  support  from  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  sold  a  herd  of  ponies  to  buy  a  portion 
of  the  land  his  people  had  relinquished  by  a  treaty,, 

"  The  lad  retained  a  bitter  memory  of  the  blue- 
coated  soldiers  with  their  bristling  bayonets,  who 
formed  a  guard  to  move  the  quelled,  dejected  rem- 
nant of  a  once  proud  tribe  into  another  little  corner 
of  the  universe  which  the  white  man  had  not  yet 
begun  to  covet. 

"  As  the  lad  grew  older  he  panted  to  become  a 
warrior,  and  deplored  the  lack  of  spirit  in  his  tribe 
that  made  them  peaceable  while  Northern  Indians 


90  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

were  on  the  war-path,  struggling  to  match  with 
cunning  cruelty  the  cool,  relentless  discipline  of  the 
Government  soldier. 

"As  a  man,  he  heartily  admires  the  pluck  and 
daring  of  those  Modoc  braves  who  fought  like  tigers 
in  the  Lava  Beds  of  Oregon,  and  glories  in  the  for- 
titude of  the  Nez  Perces,  who  could  still  battle  for  a 
hopeless  victory  in  the  howling  wind  and  driving 
snow  at  Bear  Paw  Mountain,  and  does  not  condemn 
the  treachery  of  the  outraged  Sioux,  who  lured  Cus- 
ter  and  his  slender  band  into  their  death  trap  at 
the  Little  Big  Horn. 

"  When  he  hears  of  the  Indian  Messiah,  who,  his 
people  wildly  hope,  is  coming  to  relieve  their  suffer- 
ings, redress  their  wrongs,  sweep  the  white  man 
from  existence  and  bring  back  the  deer  and  buffalo 
to  the  old  hunting  grounds,  his  heart  exults,  and  in 
his  dreams  he  joins  the  orgies  of  the  ghost  dancers, 
whets  his  scalping  knife,  and  holds  himself  in  readi- 
ness to  spring  to  arms  on  instant  warning  to  defend 
the  last  forlorn  hope  of  his  dying  race." 

As  Dr.  Whistler's  speech  increased  in  vehemence, 
his  face  grew  black  with  vengeance,  and  his  eyes 
were  quite  appalling  in  their  sternness. 

Unconsciously,  Ellery  moved  a  step  back,  and 
Floy  and  Piokee  held  their  breath,  and  nestled  close 
together  with  their  arms  around  each  other. 

The  speaker  paused  a  minute,  wrapped  in  thought. 


THE    BLACK    HAWK    INDIAN.  91 

"  0,  Dr.  Whistler !  you  frighten  us,"  Priscilla 
murmured,  with  a  scared  look  in  her  gentle  eyes. 

The  spell  was  broken  in  an  instant,  and  a  strong, 
sweet  smile  dispelled  the  gloom  of  Dr.  Whistler's 
face. 

"  I  gave  you  fair  warning,"  reminded  he,  "  that 
you  would  better  not  meet  this  revengeful  fellow. 
He  is  the  inevitable  Indian,  who,  like  Banquo's 
ghost,  (  will  not  down  at  my  command.'  " 

"  But  he  is  rather  splendid,  after  all,  if  he  is  re- 
vengeful," said  Floy  romantically,  "and  I  wouldn't 
quite  put  an  end  to  him,  poor  fellow." 

"Now  let's  hear  from  the  other  man,"  said  Ellery. 
"  Dr.  Whistler,  from  your  view  as  an  educated 
Indian,  what  shall  we  do  with  the  Nation's  Wards  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  try  to  understand  that  they 
are  not  wild  beasts,  needing  only  to  be  fed  with  raw 
meat  and  kept  in  cages,  very  carefully  barred,  lest 
they  break  loose  and  create  a  panic.  Consider  that 
the  Indian  is  a  human  being,  with  a  soul  in  his 
peculiar  make-up,  that  may  be  found  with  patient 
search.  Adopting  this  opinion,  try  the  humani- 
tarian system  ;  treat  him  fairly ;  even  take  him  by 
the  hand  and  surprise  him  with  a  dose  of  brotherly 
love,  as  our  Lord  has  commanded  us  to  love  all 
men." 

"  But,"  said  Ellery,  "  the  exterminators  would  de- 
clare the  Indian  would  scalp  you  with  one  hand, 


92          PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

while  you  were  grasping  the  other  in  brotherly 
love." 

"Well,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  "I  don't  deny  that  the 
experiment  is  dangerous  in  some  degree.  The  old 
King  Philip  Indian  still  lives,  and  it  will  take  a  cen- 
tury of  brotherly  love  to  cure  him  of  his  revengeful 
instincts.  But  that  the  experiment  can  be  success- 
fully made,  has  been  proven  by  the  brave  mission- 
aries, who  have  gone  to  work  with  our  most  savage 
Indians.  There  are  tender  girls  among  these  teach- 
ers, who  have  left  luxurious  homes  to  brave  the 
dangers  of  the  frontier,  and  who  stand  as  smiling 
messengers  of  peace  and  goodwill  in  the  very  war- 
path of  the  Messiah-crazed  ghost  dancers  of  the 
North.  It  is  a  rare  atonement  for  the  wrongs  the 
Indian  has  suffered  from  the  white  man,  and  I  ven- 
ture the  opinion  that  the  wildest  of  those  reckless 
savages  is  not  wholly  insensible  to  the  sacrifice." 

Piokee  caught  her  breath,  and  drew  away  from 
Floy.  The  missionary  girls  had  made  the  sacrifice 
for  an  alien  race ;  she  could  not  make  it  for  her 
own.  Their  hearts  had  reached  out  to  strangers; 
hers  had  turned  against  her  own  flesh  and  blood. 
But  the  conditions  were  far  different.  They  could 
live  in  their  own  way,  even  though  surrounded  by 
the  Indians ;  but  how  could  she  help  sinking  to  the 
level  of  her  people,  if  her  lot  were  cast  with'theirs  ? 
And  then,  the  missionary  girls  were  not  so  young  as 


THE   BLACK   HAWK   INDIAN.  93 

she.  Years  hence  she,  too,  would  go  and  work  in 
her  appointed  way. 

"  The  education  of  the  children  seems  to  be  the 
only  hope,"  said  Ellery. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dr.  Whistler ;  "  if  the  children  can 
be  kept  from  growing  up  in  ignorance  and  idleness, 
when  all  the  older  ones  have  passed  away  no  doubt 
the  Indians  will  be  peaceable  and  useful  citizens  of 
the  United  States." 

"  If  the  babies  could  only  all  be  adopted  by  white 
people,  just  as  Dewdrop  was,  the  question  would  be 
settled  very  soon,"  said  Floy.  "  If  the  Government 
must  rob  the  Indians  of  something,  why  not  leave 
their  land  and  take  their  babies  ?  They  could  be 
scattered  round  by  lot,  and  every  family  of  good 
standing,  and  enough  means  to  support  it,  should  be 
liable  to  draw  a  baby.  When  the  children  were  too 
old  and  well  brought  up  to  ever  grow  uncivilized, 
they  might  go  back  to  their  people  and  begin  a  big 
reformation." 

"  But  the  going  back  would  be  too  dreadful," 
said  Priscilla.  "And  then  their  foster  parents 
wouldn't  give  them  up,  if  they  were  in  the  least 
like  Dewdrop,"  slipping  a  fond  arm  round  her  pu- 
pil, little  dreaming  of  the  conflict  in  Piokee's  heart. 

"The  going  back  of  an  Indian  student  is  like 
walking  through  a  fiery  furnace,"  said  Dr.  Whistler, 
sadly  remembering  his  own  experience.  "That  is 


94  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

why,  as  far  as  possible,  the  children  should  be 
taught  at  day  schools  on  the  reservation,  or  at  the 
agency  schools.  Thus  they  will  not  be  wholly 
weaned  from  home,  and  may  shed  the  influence  of 
their  work  upon  their  parents." 

"  But  Dewdrop  says  you  have  a  young  step- 
brother, Naopope,  who  is  at  a  white  boys'  school, 
and  never  comes  back  to  the  reservation,  even  at 
vacation  time,"  said  Floy,  in  something  of  a  wonder 
why  the  doctor  did  not  practice  what  he  preached, 
and  try  his  theory  of  home  education  on  the  brother. 

"  Nao's  case  is  one  of  the  impossibilities,"  he  an- 
swered, while  a  slight  shade  crossed  his  face.  "  He 
is  too  fond  of  reservation  life,  and  I  have  hoped  to 
cure  him,  in  a  measure,  by  these  years  of  absence." 

He  did  not  pursue  the  subject,  and  Floy  dropped 
it,  perceiving  that  he  did  not  care  to  dwell  on  it. 

"  But  if  there  is  any  other  way,  must  they  all  go 
back,  however  much  they  dread  it  ?  "  asked  Piokee, 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  with  trembling  lips. 

"  They  must  if  they  have  parents,"  was  the  iron- 
clad reply.  "  Their  mission  is  to  work  right  there 
in  the  tepee  or  hut,  and  though  a  host  of  them  be 
sacrificed,  it  is  the  only  hope  of  bettering  the  for- 
lorn condition  of  our  race.  The  education  of  the 
children  will  be  all  in  vain,  if  it  robs  them  of  their 
fortitude  to  share  their  parents'  lot,  whatever  that 
may  be." 


THE   BLACK   HAWK   INDIAN.  95 

Her  piteous  appealing  look  went  by  unmarked, 
for  Sally  now  came  scudding  in,  a  shining  messen- 
ger from  Ebenezer's  gift  of  soap  and  "  diamonds," 
to  call  the  little  party  to  refreshments  in  the 
dining-room. 

The  guests  departed  at  a  seasonable  hour;  Dr. 
Whistler  last  of  all.  He  wished  to  take  the  east- 
bound  train  at  dawn,  and  borrowing  a  horse  of  Mr. 
Bowers,  rode  into  town  that  night. 

"  Did  you  really  mean  that  there  is  no  escape  ?  " 
pursued  Piokee,  drawing  him  aside  while  the  few 
remaining  guests  were  taking  leave.  "  Need  they 
all  go  back  —  every  one  ?  " 

"  You  needn't,"  answered  Dr.  Whistler,  smiling 
down  at  her  uplifted,  anxious  face.  "  You  are  a 
rare  exception  to  our  race,  in  being  a  truly  fortu- 
nate Indian  girl,  Piokee.  You  can  rest  in  happy 
ease  with  Mamma  Prairie  for  the  present,  since 
there  are  no  family  ties  drawing  you  to  the  tepee 
or  hut." 

"  But  if  there  were,"  persisted  she ;  "  if  there 
were  a  little  brother  and  sister,  growing  up  in  the 
old  wild  way,  while  I  was  learning  more  and  more 
of  the  beautiful  new  life,  and  going  through  the 
Eastern  school  —  could  they  wait  whole  years  for 
me  to  come  to  them  ? " 

"  Well,  no,"  replied  he,  speaking  seriously,  though 
with  a  spark  of  laughter  in  his  eyes;  "if  you  must 


96  PIOKEE  AND  HEK  PEOPLE. 

prepare  your  conscience  for  an  unnecessary  sacri- 
fice, Piokee,  I  should  say  that  the  imaginary  little 
brother  and  sister  would  need  prompt  attention ; 
that  you  should  fly  to  them  in  haste,  lest  they  be- 
come too  set  in  the  old  wild  way  to  ever  be  tamed." 

Blind  Dr.  Whistler !  Where  was  his  usual  dis- 
cernment, that  he  did  not  see  the  step  he  was 
advising  her  to  take  ? 

She  asked  no  further  questions ;  the  wise  strong 
friend  had  said  that  she  must  go,  and  she  rebelled 
no  longer. 

There  were  days  of  silent  waiting,  while  she  kept 
about  her  work  and  lessons  just  the  same  as  ever, 
petted  Miriam  in  her  still,  soft  way,  and  watched  for 
opportunities  to  wait  with  loving  care  on  Mamma 
Prairie,  and  Aunt  Rose  whom  Uncle  Kearn  had  left 
to  make  a  few  weeks'  visit  at  the  ranch. 

Dr.  Whistler  had  advised  more  exercise,  hence 
Piokee  could  ride  out  on  Chipmunk  every  day, 
watching  for  the  signal  without  awakening  wonder. 

Too  soon  she  saw  the  broken  bough,  and  made 
her  hasty  preparations  for  the  flight. 

A  few  articles  of  clothing,  warm  and  strong  of 
texture,  her  little  workbox  and  a  package  of  her 
precious  books  were  rolled  up  in  a  bundle,  then  the 
doll  and  picture-book  for  Nanno  —  relics  of  her  own 
happy  childhood  —  were  laid  beside  the  violin 
within  the  case,  to  which  she  strapped  the  bundle. 


THE    BLACK   HAWK    INDIAN.  97 

In  another  roll  were  two  Navajo  blankets  Dr. 
Whistler  had  sent  her  as  an  Indian  treasure.  They 
were  of  the  softest,  brightest  colors,  and  were  woven 
with  great  skill  and  durability.  She  and  Miriam 
had  been  fond  of  playing  Indian  with  these  blankets, 
and  had  often  stretched  them  on  a  frame  of  poles 
on  the  lawn,  for  a  tepee  of  tiny  size,  but  striking 
elegance.  In  this  they  had  encamped  like  gleeful 
gypsies,  with  delicious  messes  simmering  in  a  little 
porcelain  kettle  hanging  from  crotched  poles  above 
a  fire  outside  the  tent. 

With  heroic  fortitude  Piokee  had  played  Indian 
with  Miriam  on  this  last  sorrowful  afternoon,  when 
she  returned  from  riding  to  the  wood.  Then  she 
had  borne  the  blankets  to  her  room,  and  bound 
them  with  a  shawl  strap,  ready  for  the  flitting  when 
the  ranch  was  wrapped  in  sleep. 

"  Dear  little  room,  you  are  so  sweet  and  white, 
and  you  have  been  my  very  own  so  long  —  so  long," 
she  moaned  in  heart,  sinking  on  her  knees  beside 
the  bed,  to  pray  that  she  might  be  forgiven  for 
stealing  forth  like  a  thief  at  night  from  those  to 
whom  she  owed  so  much. 

Then  she  crept  out  into  the  darkness,  leaving  the 
little  white  room  still  and  empty. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IN   THE    MORNING. 

,  dear!"  groaned  Ebenezer,  when  the 
flight  had  been  discovered  in  the  morning. 
"  It's  all  because  I  told  the  peddler  that  Dewdrop 
was  a  fiddler.  'Tis  a  perfeck  wonder  that  I  hain't 
been  shet  up  in  an  idjut  asylum  long  ago." 

"  No,  'tain't,"  soothed  Sally,  deluging  the  table- 
cloth with  coffee  she  was  pouring  while  she  looked 
askance  to  keep  from  dropping  tears  into  his  cup. 
"Don't  take  on  so,  Eben;  'tain't  ev'rybuddy  that 
kin  hev  the  best  o'  sense,  an'  ef  you  ain't  sharpened 
on  both  edges  you  ain't  quite  as  dull  as  some  poor 

tools." 

This  compliment,  the  first  that  Sally  had  bestowed 
on  Ebenezer  in  the  fourteen  years  of  their  acquaint- 
ance, would  have  given  him  great  joy,  had  not  the 
honest  fellow  been  so  staggered  by  the  grief  that 
filled  the  house. 

When  Piokee  did  not  come  to  breakfast,  Miriam 

98 


IN    THE    MOKNING.  99 

was  sent  to  call  her,  and  came  back  reporting  that 
she  was  not  in  her  room. 

"  I  spect  she's  had  an  invitation  out  to  bweakfast," 
was  the  tot's  conclusion  ;  "  and  has  taken  her  violin 
to  make  some  music  for  her  fwends.  Her  bed  is 
all  made  up  nice,  and  evwy  fing  is  spick-an'-span." 

And  at  that  moment  Ebenezer  sent  in  word  by 
Sally  that  Chipmunk  was  not  in  his  stall. 

Prairie  wonderingly  arose  and  went  upstairs.  She 
was  gone  so  long  that  Aunt  Sweetbrier  followed  her, 
with  Miriam  by  the  hand. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  asked  Rose,  alarmed  at  find- 
ing Prairie  sitting  in  the  little  white  room  with  a 
stricken  face. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Prairie,  in  a  far-off  voice. 
"  It  is  so  very  strange.  Some  of  her  clothes  and 
things  are  missing.  0,  Sweetbrier  !  she  must  have 
gone  away — to  stay." 

"  Oh !  oh !  'e  music  girl  was  whispering  in  her 
ear,  and  now  my  Dewdwop's  gone  off  wiv  'e  circus," 
Miriam  cried,  remembering  the  peddler's  offer  to 
Piokee  to  engage  her  as  a  violinist.  And  she  threw 
herself  face  down  upon  the  snowy  bed  Piokee's  care- 
ful hands  had  left  in  trim  array,  and  broke  into  a 
sorrowful  wail. 

A  little  later,  the  remorseful  Ebenezer,  who  ac- 
cused himself  of  having  brought  about  the  whole 
calamity,  was  hurrying  down  his  breakfast  in  the 


100  PIOKEE   AND   HEE   PEOPLE. 

kitchen,  to  start  with  Mr.  Bowers  to  pursue  the 
peddler.  The  latter  had  passed  through  the  neigh- 
borhood again  within  a  day  or  two,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed Piokee  had  been  lured  from  home  to  join  his 
orchestra. 

"  Here,  don't  slight  the  buckwheats,  if  you  be  in 
sech  a  rush ;  an*  help  yerself  to  pickles,"  flustered 
Sally.  She  had  managed  to  direct  the  flow  of  coffee 
into  Ebenezer's  cup,  and  was  now  on  the  bound  to- 
ward the  table  from  the  stove  with  a  bunch  of  pan- 
cakes pinioned  on  a  fork. 

"  No  pickles,  thank  ye,"  he  dejectedly  declined. 
"  I'm  in  enough  of  a  pickle  now,  lettin'  cowcumpers 
tee  to  tally  alone." 

"  Wa-al,  then,  hev  some  scrambled  egg  an'  maple 
syrup,  an'  chirk  up,"  she  urged,  peppering  his 
second  cup  of  coffee  and  sugaring  his  egg,  to  help 
along  the  rush.  "  'Tain't  a-goin'  ter  kill  Dewdrop 
to  be  fiddlin'  round  the  country  in  that  scrumptious 
star-spangled  chariot  a  day  or  two  ;  no,  'tain't.  'Tis 
a  picnic  that  most  any  girl  would  jump  at,  'specially 
an  out  an'  out  gypsy,  sech  as  her." 

"  But  Dewdrop  ain't  the  kind  o'  girl  ter  jump  at 
picnics,  and  that's  what  makes  it  so  tremenjous 
strange,"  said  Ebenezer,  swallowing  his  peppered 
coffee  with  distracted  gulps. 

"  Little  foster-sister,  you  and  Mamma  Prairie  did 
your  very  best.  If  you  have  failed  with  Dewdrop 


IN   THE   MORNING.  101 

after  all  your  care,  how  can  there  be  the  slightest 
hope  for  any  of  her  race  ?  "  said  John,  taking  Miriam 
in  his  arms  to  comfort  her  before  he  left  home  on 
his  fruitless  search. 

"  But  it  cannot  be  that  we  have  failed/'  trusted 
Prairie,  while  she  mourned.  "  I  was  so  sure  of 
Dewdrop,  John,  I  used  to  smile  securely  and  say, 
'  0,  yes  !  why  not  ? '  when  people  doubtingly  in- 
quired if  our  red-brown  girlie  was  contented  in  her 
civilized  home,  and  if  she  was  truthful  and  sweet- 
tempered,  quick  to  learn,  nice  in  her  ways,  and  fond 
of  books  and  work.  All  this  our  little  Indian  maid 
must  be,  however  white  girls  miss  perfection,  be- 
cause the  world  was  looking  on,  expecting  me  to 
fail  in  my  experiment  with  a  daughter  of  the  out- 
cast race.  My  little  loving  Dewdrop  !  Why  did 
she  wish  to  leave  us  ? " 

"Why,  because  she  is  a  born  barbarian,"  said 
Aunt  Abigail,  coming  in  with  Prairie's  father.  The 
tidings  of  Piokee's  flight  had  burst  upon  them  at 
the  breakfast-table  through  a  herder  from  the  ranch, 
and  they  had  dropped  their  knives  and  forks  to 
hasten  over.  "  'Tisn't  to  be  wondered  at  one  jot  or 
tittle,  and  the  child  herself  is  not  to  blame  for  want- 
ing to  become  a  wandering  minstrel,  if  she  has  joined 
the  peddler's  orchestra.  What  else  can  be  expected 
of  the  offspring  of  a  race  that  has  been  gadding  back 
and  forth  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  ever  since  the 


102  PIOKEE   AND    HEK   PEOPLE. 

family  of  Noah  were  let  out  of  the  ark  ?  An  Indian 
would  rather  live  on  pounded  acorns  and  be  free 
to  roam  the  universe,  than  eat  plum  pudding  from 
a  china  saucer  as  a  prisoner  within  four  walls.  I 
hope  she  took  her  overshoes  and  winter  flannels, 
and  some  salve  and  liniment  in  case  of  accident.  It 
stands  to  reason  she  didn't  take  a  trunk,  if  she  stole 
off  horseback  in  the  night." 

"  There  seems  to  be  the  deepest  mystery  about 
the  whole  affair,"  said  Prairie's  father.  "  I  have 
looked  on  Dewdrop  as  a  model  girl  in  all  respects, 
my  daughter,  and  have  thought  your  marked  suc- 
cess with  her  a  singular  triumph  over  race  and 
antecedents.  Has  she  shown  in  any  way  of  late 
that  she  was  growing  tired  of  her  quiet  life  ?" 

"  I  have  thought,  within  the  last  two  weeks,  that 
she  seemed  a  little  restless,"  answered  Prairie  j  "  but 
I  didn't  once  think  she  was  tired  of  home.  Only 
yesterday  she  came  and  stole  her  arms  about  my 
neck,  and  said  it  was  the  sweetest  home  in  all  the 
world,  and  asked  me  if  I  truly  loved  my  red-brown 
girlie.  Then  she  went  out  riding,  and  came  back 
so  still  and  strange  I  thought  she  must  be  ill." 

"  Meddlesome  old  maids  don't  need  a  spyglass  to 
discern  a  mountain  from  a  molehill,"  said  Aunt  Abi- 
gail, shooing  down  the  kitten  that  was  crawling  up 
her  back,  and  straightening  her  spectacles  to  hide 
her  agitation ;  "  I  was  sure  there  was  something 


IN   THE    MOKNING.  103 

wrong,  and  if  this  family  hadn't  been  as  blind  as  a 
whole  nest  of  bats,  you  might  have  set  a  watch  upon 
the  child  and  saved  the  whole  calamity." 

Aunt  Sweetbrier,  who  had  gone  upstairs  directly 
after  breakfast,  now  came  back  with  a  slip  of  paper 
in  her  hand. 

"  Here,  dear,"  she  said  to  Prairie,  "  is  a  little  note 
we  overlooked.  I  found  it  pinned  to  her  pillow,  on 
the  under  side." 

Prairie  seized  it  eagerly,  and  with  a  tremor  in 
her  voice  read  the  parting  message,  written  in  a 
clear,  round,  girlish  hand : 

" (  The  Lord  watch  between  me  and  thee,  when  we 
are  absent  one  from  another.'  ': 

There  was  silence  in  the  room.  Then  the  old 
secure  smile  came  back  to  Prairie's  face. 

"  Dear  child !  I'm  glad  I  haven't  had  a  doubting 
thought.  There's  something  we  can't  understand  ; 
but  the  Lord,  who  will  watch  between  my  poor  lit- 
tle wanderer  and  me,  knows  all  about  it,  and  we 
shall  know  in  time." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AT    THE    PECAN    CAMP. 

THE  Navajo  blankets  saved  Piokee  actual  suffer- 
ing on  her  journey  to  the  Reservation.  Fau- 
qua  spared  one  blanket  from  her  scanty  camping 
outfit,  and  with  this  she  made  a  tiny  wicki-up  in 
which  Piokee,  wrapped  in  the  Navajo  blankets, 
curled  herself  night  after  night,  the  parents  sleeping 
near  her  in  some  leafy  hollow  sheltered  from  the 
wind. 

Fortunately  for  the  wayworn  girl,  the  breast  of 
Mother  Earth,  on  which  she  laid  her  tired  head  at 
night,  was  tender  with  the  warmth  of  sunlit  days, 
and  thus  the  long  hard  jaunt  of  scores  of  miles, 
which  occupied  well-nigh  a  week,  was  made  with 
less  discomfort  than  Piokee  had  anticipated. 

Scattered  through  the  timber  were  the  pecan 
gatherers,  girls  and  women  crouching  on  the  ground 
in  odd  fantastic  groups,  vigilantly  searching  for  the 
nuts  among  the  leaves. 

104 


AT    THE    PECAN    CAMP.  105 

To  the  younger  boys  belonged  the  task  of  climbing 
to  shake  down  what  nuts  were  on  the  trees ;  but 
like  their  sires  and  elder  brothers  idling  by  the 
camp  fire  over  in  the  semicircle  of  the  tents,  most 
of  them  disdained  to  work,  and  roamed  the  woods 
at  will  with  squirrel  club  and  bow  and  arrow. 

Up-a-tree,  who  was  a  champion  climber  and  had 
thereby  gained  his  name,  was  shinning  up  a  syca- 
more trunk,  clinging  like  a  treetoad  to  the  slick 
white  bark.  The  resemblance  was  the  more  com- 
plete as  Up  was  dressed  from  top  to  toe  in  gunny- 
sacks,  from  which  Piokee  had  evolved  a  shirt  and 
pair  of  trousers  in  great  haste  on  her  arrival  at  the 
Reservation,  to  clothe  the  almost  naked  little  fellow. 

"  If  Up  would  only  climb  the  pecans,  instead  of 
sycamores  and  cottonwoods,  he  might  shake  down 
the  nuts,  and  risk  his  bones  for  something  useful," 
sighed  Piokee,  watching  with  fear  and  trembling 
the  wiry  little  acrobat  performing  perilous  evolu- 
tions in  the  tree-top. 

"  Up-a-tree  say  he  not  work  like  girl.  Grow  up 
big  Injun,"  Fauqua  said. 

She  was  balancing  against  a  pecan-tree  a  rough 
precarious  ladder  she  had  made  by  whittling  notches 
in  two  long  slim  poles,  and  winding  grape-vines 
back  and  forth  across  them  for  a  brace.  Up  this 
she  was  about  to  crawl,  with  crotched  pole  in  hand, 
to  shake  the  lower  branches  of  the  tall  pecan. 


106  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  We  must  try  to  te.ach  him  better,"  said  Piokee 
patiently.  "  Up  will  have  to  change  his  ways  and 
go  to  work  like  smart  little  Nanno,  or  he'll  never 
make  a  truly  great  Indian  whom  Nanno  and  I  will 
be  proud  to  call  our  brother." 

Nanno  was  squatted  in  a  queer  round  heap  on  the 
ground  stirring  up  the  leaves  for  nuts.  Dropping 
down  beside  the  little  worker,  Piokee  took  the  small 
rough  hands  between  her  own  soft  palms  and  held 
them  tenderly.  The  child  looked  up  as  if  in  wonder 
at  this  marvelous  new  sister,  so  unlike  in  speech 
and  manner  any  being  she  had  ever  seen. 

"  What  are  you  thinking,  tiny  still-tongue  ? " 
asked  Piokee,  studying  the  weirdly  solemn  little 
face.  "  Are  you  wondering  what  makes  a  truly 
great  man  —  red,  or  white,  or  black  —  no  matter 
wrhat  the  color  of  his  skin  ?  Feeling  big  doesn't 
make  him  so,  for  the  bigger  he  feels  the  smaller  he 
is  sure  to  be.  He  needn't  have  a  tall  form,  nor 
strong  muscles,  nor  swift  feet  —  though  my  chief 
has  all  those  —  but  he  must  be  strong,  and  wise, 
and  beautiful  inside  —  not  too  grand  to  think  of 
tender  little  ways  for  helping  others,  yet  grand 
enough  to  never  dread  to  do  the  very  hardest  thing 
himself.  My  chief  is  a  truly  great  Indian,  Nanno." 

Piokee  had  grown  talkative  since  coming  to  the 
reservation.  The  placid  silence  she  so  often  kept 
at  home  amid  the  cheerful  chit-chat  of  the  house- 


AT    THE    PECAN    CAMP.  109 

hold  was  no  longer  possible,  and  she  must  bravely 
fight  against  the  dull  despair  that  would  have  held 
her  voiceless  in  the  presence  of  this  dreary  people 
who  had  called  her  back  to  them.  Since  she  could 
no  more  hear  the  dear  familiar  language  from  the 
lips  of  those  she  loved,  she  talked  it  to  herself  and 
Fauqua,  and,  taking  hold  of  Nanno  with  a  yearning 
grasp,  she  told  the  child  her  inmost  thoughts,  and 
sometimes  fancied  that  the  little  shy  still  creature 
understood  her  meaning. 

"  Trees  cry,"  said  Fauqua,  coming  down  to  shift 
the  ladder  to  another  spot,  and  standing  still  to 
listen  to  the  rising  wind.  "  Storm  come." 

"  Well,  let  it  come,"  Piokee  answered ;  and  she 
set  her  teeth  against  the  wind.  "Up  can  hover 
round  the  tent  fire,  as  he  has  no  shoes  or  jacket, 
and  has  lost  the  cap  I  made  him.  I'm  thankful 
Nanno  has  a  warm  long  coat  and  hood  and  leggings." 

With  the  help  of  Fauqua,  who  was  really  skilled 
with  the  needle,  though  like  many  civilized  women 
she  had  plied  it  hitherto  in  fancywork  alone,  Piokee 
had  comfortably  clothed  her  little  sister  from  a  half- 
worn  blanket  she  had  cleansed  and  made  into  a  suit. 

Nanno  rubbed  her  hands  upon  her  red  coat,  gazing 
at  another  little  girl  near  by,  whose  only  garment 
was  a  tattered  calico  frock.  Was  Nanno  wishing 
that  this  child,  with  all  the  other  little  reservation 
gypsies,  had  a  civilized  elder  sister  to  invent  new 


110  PIOKEE   AND    HEE   PEOPLE. 

ways  to  keep  them  warm,  to  gently  wash  their 
hands  and  faces,  comb  their  tousled  hair,  and  kiss 
and  cuddle  them  at  unexpected  times  ? 

"  Poor  little  shivering  thing  !  "  exclaimed  Piokee, 
following  Nanno's  glance.  "  And  there  are  so  many 
more  like  her  because  their  mothers  haven't  learned 
the  way.  It  seems  as  if  the  whole  world,  if  it  only 
knew,  would  go  to  work  to  help  them.  And  I 
thought  you  wouldn't  miss  me,  Nanno,  because 
you'd  never  known  me.  I  wonder  which  we  miss 
more,  what  we've  had  and  loved  and  lost,  or  what 
we've  never  had  and  have  so  sadly  needed  ?  " 

The  only  answer  to  this  query  was  a  sharp  whoop 
from  above,  and  with  a  whirl  of  arms  and  legs,  Up 
parted  from  a  sycamore  branch,  and  alighted  on  the 
ground.  With  an  elfish  grin  peculiar  to  himself,  he 
seized  his  squirrel  club,  and  darted  off  in  search  of 
new  exploits. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  Piokee  said,  "  I  thought  wild  horses 
couldn't  tear  those  canvas  trousers,  but  Up  has  left 
a  piece  of  one  leg  hanging  to  the  tree.  I  shall  have 
to  patch  it  with  a  flour  sack,  and  he  will  have  a 
(  Best  Flour '  label  running  round  his  leg  in  red, 
white  and  blue.  Won't  that  look  too  funny,  Nanno  ? 
If  you  don't  laugh  at  that,  I  shall  surely  have  to 
shake  and  tickle  you  until  you  do." 

Nanno  kept  her  eyes  still  fixed  reflectively  on 
Piokee's  face. 


AT   THE    PECAN    CAMP.  Ill 

"  I  care,"  she  murmured,  in  a  curiously  unchildish 
tone,  finding  her  speech  at  length. 

Of  Nanno's  few  intelligible  words,  gathered  from 
her  parents'  broken  English,  "  I  care  "  came  oftenest 
from  her  lips. 

"  Poor  little  soul ! "  exclaimed  Piokee,  catching 
Nanno  in  her  arms.  "You  needn't  care  —  you 
mustn't  care — you  are  too  young  to  care!  Dear 
me,  I'd  like  to  be  a  fairy  with  the  power  to  whisk 
you  out  of  life  a  single  instant,  and  bring  you  back 
a  happy,  laughing  little  girl,  like  Miriam  and  the 
other  children  in  that  lovely  world  you've  never 
seen." 

Piokee  almost  lost  her  voice ;  but  swallowing  the 
big  lump  in  her  throat,  she  fell  to  work  picking  up 
the  nuts  that  Fauqua  had  brought  down. 

While  thus  engaged,  she  felt  that  she  was  being 
pelted  on  the  back  with  nuts,  but  looking  round 
could  not  at  first  discover  whence  they  came. 

There  was  a  group  of  girls  beneath  a  tree  not  far 
away,  from  which  a  half-grown  boy,  more  gallant 
than  his  fellow  youngsters  off  upon  the  hunt,  was 
shaking  nuts. 

Despite  Piokee' s  friendly  smiles,  the  girls  had 
kept  aloof  from  her  thus  far,  staring,  some  in  half- 
shy  wonder,  some  in  open  envy  at  her  neat  attire 
that  had  not  yet  begun  to  show  the  wear  and  tear 
of  roughing  it. 


112  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

This  bright-faced,  soft-eyed  girl  of  their  own  race, 
with  gentle  voice  and  manner,  clad  in  civilized  gown 
and  jaunty  outing  cap  and  ulster,  was  a  revela- 
tion to  these  gypsy  maids.  They  themselves  were 
dressed  in  calico  short-gown  skirts  and  leggings, 
having  faded  shawls  or  blankets  hugged  about  them 
for  a  wrap,  and  covering  their  unkempt  heads. 

As  Piokee  glanced  toward  them,  one  and  all 
seemed  gravely  occupied  in  gathering  the  nuts  and 
dropping  them  into  the  bags  suspended  from  their 
necks. 

No  sooner  had  she  turned  back  to  her  own  em- 
ployment, however,  than  the  nuts  again  began  to 
pelt  her.  One  sharply  struck  her  cheek. 

Looking  round  a  second  time,  she  saw  the  un- 
kempt heads  turn  quickly  from  her,  and  a  sly  smile 
skip  from  face  to  face. 

She  now  felt  sure  these  girls  had  thrown  the 
nuts ;  she  was  startled  at  the  thought  that  they  had 
done  this  in  a  spirit  of  petty  persecution  which 
might  soon  become  more  open. 

The  youngster  in  the  tree  appeared  to  be  enjoy- 
ing the  mischief  with  the  girls,  and  was  peering 
down  on  Piokee,  slyly  curious  how  she  would 
receive  the  challenge. 

He  was  surprised  to  see  her  smilingly  walk  over 
to  the  nutters,  and  flitting  lightly  round  among 
them,  open  each  one's  bag  with  a  caressing  little 


AT    THE    PECAN    CAMP.  113 

movement  to  drop  therein  a  handful  of  her  own 
nuts  as  a  good-will  offering. 

The  girls  made  no  resistance  ;  but  in  returning  to 
her  tree  Piokee  heard  a  low  ejaculation  and  a  short 
laugh,  whether  in  derision  or  good  nature  she  could 
not  determine. 

The  pelting  ceased,  however,  and  the  pacified  be- 
siegers held  a  muttered  parley.  After  some  demur 
from  their  companions,  two  of  them  came  shyly 
over  to  return  the  offering  with  a  double  handful  of 
their  nuts. 

They  knew  no  word  of  English,  nor  could  Piokee 
speak  the  Indian  language,  but  the  friendly,  help- 
ful spirit  of  the  civilized  girl,  reaching  out  to  these 
less  fortunate  young  sisters  of  her  tribe,  needed  no 
interpretation. 

Meantime,  over  in  the  semicircle  of  the  tents, 
where  the  old  and  young  men  smoked  their  pipes 
before  the  camp  fire,  something  of  the  deepest 
interest  was  going  on. 

A  party  of  wild-looking  strangers  had  arrived  in 
camp  that  afternoon,  to  be  received  with  most  un- 
usual ceremony.  Other  visitors  in  noiseless,  hurry- 
ing squads  kept  riding  in,  until  the  camps  were 
outnumbered  thrice  over. 

Boys  were  sent  the  rounds  to  call  the  women  to 
the  tents  to  cook  a  feast  writh  reckless  hospitality. 

"Injuns  hold   big  council.     Talk   ghost  dance," 


114  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

said  Fauqua,  hauling  down  her  ladder,  and  hoisting 
it  upon  her  back. 

"Oh!"  said  Piokee,  with  a  thrill  of  dread,  "I 
didn't  think  there  was  any  danger  of  our  tribe 
joining  in  the  ghost  dance.  They  have  not  been  on 
the  war-path  for  so  many  years." 

"  War-path  still  there.  Messiah  lead  Injun  on," 
was  Fauqua' s  ominous  reply. 

Now  came  Cold  Blast,  stalking  through  the  wood, 
and  beckoning  to  Piokee.  Wondering  what  he 
could  desire  of  her,  she  went  with  him. 

She  did  not  fall  behind  him,  as  did  Fauqua  when 
she  walked  with  her  liege  lord — no  servile  Indian 
customs  for  Piokee  —  but  with  a  quick,  light  step 
kept  even  pace  beside  him.  He  led  her  to  a  place 
between  the  camp  fire  and  the  inner  row  of  council- 
ors, where  she  stood  before  the  dark  strange  faces 
and  stern  watchful  eyes  of  the  assembled  braves, 
with  beating  heart,  but  calm  courageous  mien. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BEFORE    THE    COUNCIL. 

HANDING  Piokee  a  newspaper,  Cold  Blast  said 
to  her : 

"  Messiah  runner  bring  white  man's  paper.  Lit- 
tle tame  squaw  read  ghost  dance  news.  Wild  Injun 
not  know  how." 

A  confusion  of  strange  thoughts  rushed  upon  Pio- 
kee as  she  realized  that  she  only,  of  all  those  in  the 
camp,  could  read  the  printed  words. 

She  glanced  about  the  silent,  waiting  audience,  in 
whose  melancholy  faces  was  a  smoldering  resent- 
ment of  long-harbored  wrongs,  wishing  she  might 
be  inspired  to  make  a  glowing  speech  in  their  own 
tongue,  and  convince  them  that  the  Indian  Messiah 
was  but  a  myth  to  lead  them  to  disaster. 

"  Read,"  again  commanded  Cold  Blast,  vexed  by 
her  delay. 

Looking  through  the  paper  hurriedly,  she  found 
the  latest  tidings  from  the  Northwest,  and  began  to 

115 


116  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

read.  First  came  official  news  from  Pine  Ridge 
Agency. 

"'The  Indians  here  are  suffering  for  food.  I 
have  nothing  to  give  them.' " 

Cold  Blast  interpreted  the  gloomy  tidings  to  the 
men  in  council,  and  a  deep  resentful  murmur  spread 
among  them.  One  commanding  brave  of  the  party 
of  wild  strangers  rose,  and  made  a  speech  of  some 
length,  emphasized  with  vehement  gestures. 

Just  as  she  began  to  read,  Piokee  saw  a  most  pe- 
culiar-looking youth,  who  seemed  to  have  arrived  in 
camp  that  minute,  take  his  station  right  behind  the 
outside  row  of  men,  and  standing  with  his  back 
against  a  tree,  survey  the  scene  with  keenly  curious 
eyes. 

This  newcomer  wore  a  civilized  garb,  but  much 
ashamed  of  it  did  he  appear  to  be,  for  he  had  turned 
his  coat  and  vest  and  trousers  inside  out,  and  was 
bristling  with  inverted  seams,  and  hems  and  pockets, 
and  an  odd  display  of  airy  linings. 

There  was  a  rakish  dent  in  one  side  of  his  Derby 
hat,  and  sticking  through  the  holes  with  which  the 
crown  was  riddled,  was  a  furious  array  of  buzzard 
quills,  that  pointed  fore  and  aft  and  upward,  in  a 
comically  distracted  way. 

When  the  brave  ceased  speaking,  Piokee  read  on 
at  a  signal  from  her  father. 

" '  Plenty  Bear,  an  old-time  friendly  Indian,  who 


BEFORE    THE    COUNCIL.  117 

lives  at  Wounded  Knee,  twenty -five  miles  northeast, 
comes  into  Pine  Ridge  Agency  with  an  alarming 
report.  He  says  the  Indians  at  Wounded  Knee, 
numbering  over  twro  thousand,  have  resumed  the 
ghost  dance,  with  many  war-like  accompaniments. 
They  have  taken  the  oath  to  resist  interference,  if 
it  costs  the  last  drop  of  their  hearts'  blood.' " 

An  exclamation  of  applause  arose  from  one  and 
all,  and  several  of  the  men  leaped  up  together  and 
began  shaking  hands  with  one  another,  as  if  joining 
in  the  oath  of  their  Dakota  brethren.  This  brought 
the  rest  upon  their  feet,  and  the  youth  in  inside-out 
apparel  was  also  seized  with  the  enthusiasm.  Dart- 
ing forward,  he  joined  with  gusto  in  the  ceremony, 
and  did  not  fall  back  to  his  station  by  the  tree  till 
he  had  wrung  the  hand  of  every  brave. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Piokee  glanced  still 
farther  down  the  column,  and  saw  that  there  was 
far  more  thrilling  news  to  come.  Indeed,  she  feared 
that,  should  she  read  it  all,  it  would  set  the  men, 
already  so  excited,  fairly  wild. 

She  had  heard  a  startling  rumor  that  the  first  out- 
break in  Dakota  was  to  be  the  signal  for  the  gathering 
of  the  red  warriors  North  and  South.  Remembering 
this  rumor  she  decided  to  omit  the  lines  reporting  how 
the  Indians  in  the  vicinity  of  Wounded  Knee  were 
pillaging  and  burning  the  cabins  of  the  white  settlers, 
who  were  fleeing  for  their  lives ;  how  the  Indians 


118  PIOKEE   AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

were  all  well-armed  and  full  of  courage ;  were  fa- 
miliar with  the  places  where  the  troops  were  being 
sent  and  knew  where  was  the  best  place  to  strike, 
when  the  time  for  a  general  outbreak  should  come. 

This,  and  much  more,  she  passed  over,  and  when 
the  hand-shaking  ceased  and  the  men  sat  down 
again,  she  was  ready  with  the  part  she  chose  to 
read.  This  told  how  General  Miles  was  hemming 
the  insurgents  in  on  every  side  ;  how  the  troops 
were  sleeping  in  their  uniforms,  with  arms  and 
horses  ready  for  an  instant  move,  and  nothing 
would  be  left  undone  to  make  the  charge  on  the 
big  bands  at  Wounded  Knee  and  Porcupine  an 
overpowering  success. 

" '  It  looks  like  a  move  that  means  utter  extermi- 
nation to  the  red  warriors,  if,  when  the  military 
close  in  on  them,  they  refuse  to  lay  down  their 
arms,'  "  was  the  concluding  sentence. 

"  Ugh  !  White  man's  print  no  good.  Tell  bad 
news,"  muttered  Cold  Blast.  And  he  snatched  the 
paper  from  Piokee's  hand  in  great  disgust  and  threw 
it  in  the  fire.  She  felt  relieved  to  see  it  vanishing 
into  smoke. 

When,  as  he  dismissed  her  with  a  final  nod,  she 
turned  to  leave  the  spot,  she  saw  a  look  of  deeper 
gloom  upon  the  faces  of  the  men,  and  caught  a 
glance  of  quizzical  surprise  from  the  youth  who 
leaned  against  the  tree. 


BEFORE    THE    COUNCIL.  119 

Had  he  understood,  without  interpretation,  all 
that  she  had  read,  thought  she  ;  and  had  he  also 
read  the  press  dispatches  and  detected  her  omission  ? 

Yes ;  she  was  quite  sure  he  had,  for  now  there 
was  a  gleam  of  mocking  laughter  in  the  sharp  black 
eyes  of  this  queer  youth,  who  seemed  a  civilized 
being  turned  back  to  savagery. 

Piokee  made  her  way  to  Chipmunk's  grazing  spot 
behind  the  tents,  where,  with  other  ponies,  he  was 
lariated  near  a  patch  of  wild  cane,  feeding  on  the 
fresh  green  brake. 

"  Chipmunk  dear,"  she  murmured,  with  her  arms 
around  the  pony's  neck,  "  there  is  to  be  a  ghost 
dance  in  the  camp  to-night,  and  everything  will  be 
so  strange  and  frightful  —  like  a  nightmare  that  I 
once  had  at  home. 

"  A  cold  storm  is  coming  on,  and  we  must  both 
be  very  brave.  You  will  have  to  stand  out  in  the 
rain,  and  if  I  hear  you  whinnying  for  your  nice 
warm  stall  and  sweet  delicious  oats,  I'll  have  to  cry 
in  spite  of  all. 

"  There'll  be  some  dreadful  strangers  in  the  tent 
for  supper,  and  while  they're  sitting  on  the  ground, 
eating  mush  and  squirrel  with  their  fingers,  I  shall 
all  the  time  be  trying  not  to  think  about  the  lovely 
dining-room  at  home,  where  the  soft  light  will  be 
falling  from  the  chandelier  on  the  snowy  table,  with 
its  pretty  china  and  its  sparkling  glass  and  silver. 


120  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  0,  Chipmunk,  Chipmunk !  are  you  homesick 
day  and  night,  and  every  hour,  and  every  minute  ? 
I  am  sure  you  are,  you  look  so  woefully  forlorn. 
Your  mane  and  tail  are  snarled  with  burs,  and  your 
coat  is  very  frowzy,  for  I  have  no  currycomb  and 
brush  to  keep  you  sleek.  But  I  love  you  more  than 
ever,  if  you're  not  the  handsome  little  fellow  every 
one  admired  so  much  at  home." 

She  dropped  a  few  pathetic  tears  on  the  tangled 
mane,  and  Chipmunk  gently  pawed  the  ground  and 
gave  a  soft  appreciative  whinny,  as  if  he  fully  un- 
derstood the  trying  situation,  and  was  grateful  to 
his  little  mistress  for  her  warm  devotion  to  himself, 
regardless  of  his  changed  condition. 

Piokee  then  applied  herself  to  picking  out  the 
burs,  as  she  had  often  done  before,  since  Chipmunk 
had  become  a  gypsy  pony. 

While  thus  engaged,  she  chanced  to  glance  around, 
and  saw  the  queer  youth  picketing  a  pony  to  a  tree 
near  by. 

She  wondered  if  he  had  observed  the  little  scene 
between  herself  and  Chipmunk,  and  overheard  what 
she  had  said. 

He  raised  his  savage  headgear  with  a  touch  of 
civilized  ease,  and  stepping  up  to  Chipmunk  viewed 
the  tangled  mane  with  dubious  eyes. 

"  That's  a  big  job,  and  perhaps  you'd  like  some 
help,"  observed  he.  "  But  I  don't  know  if  'twill 


BEFOEE    THE    COUNCIL.  121 

pay.  There's  plenty  more  to  stick  to  him  when 
these  are  pulled  out,"  was  his  rather  shiftless  after- 
thought. 

So  welcome  to  Piokee  was  the  boy's  straight  Eng- 
lish, spoken  in  a  clear,  though  careless  tone,  that 
she  forgave  the  half-indifferent  air  with  which  he 
offered  his  assistance. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  responded,  as  he  went  to  work, 
not  very  zealously,  on  the  pony's  tail.  "  It  is  a  task, 
but  not  so  great  as  others  I  have  undertaken,"  with 
a  little  sigh. 

The  boy  regarded  her  with  questioning  scrutiny, 
then  leisurely  picked  out  a  bur  and  tossed  it  in 
the  air. 

"  Are  you  a  runaway?"  he  asked,  with  a  curious 
stress  on  the  personal  pronoun. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

AN   ESCAPED   LUNATIC. 

66    A   RE  you  ?"  Piokee  quizzed  back,  warding  off 

-£^-     his  question. 

"  Yes,"  he  frankly  owned.  "  An  escaped  lunatic. 
The  Messiah  craze,  you  know.  The  papers  said  the 
fellows  were  vamosing  from  the  others  schools,  so  I 
shot  out  between  two  days.  I've  come  to  help  the 
Indians  fight  the  white  men." 

"And  I,"  said  she,  "have  come  to  fight  the 
Indian." 

"Whew!  that  sounds  loyal,"  he  exclaimed  with 
much  surprise.  "  When  may  we  look  for  the  first 
outbreak  ?  "  somewhat  jeeringly. 

"  It  has  taken  place  already,"  said  Piokee  calmly. 
"  I've  convinced  one  good  little  woman  who  was 
pining  for  the  new  way,  but  didn't  know  just  how 
to  make  a  start,  that  hominy  is  better  boiled  in 
salted  water  than  in  bacon  brine,  that  beans  should 
be  picked  over  very  carefully,  and  washed  and 
122 


AN   ESCAPED    LUNATIC.  123 

rinsed  before  they're  stewed,  and  that  the  kettle, 
and  tin  plates,  and  spoons  need  cleaning  after  every 
meal." 

"  Oh !  a  missionary  cook.  Well,  you  won't  ex- 
terminate us  that  way,"  and  the  boy  threw  back  his 
head  and  gave  a  mocking  laugh.  "  See  here,"  he 
added,  growing  serious,  "  the  men  were  all  on  fire 
to  hear  about  the  pillaging  and  burning,  how  the 
dancers  were  raising  the  cowboys'  hair,  and  the 
cowardly  fellows  were  rushing  helter-skelter  to  Ben 
Libbit's  ranch,  too  scared  to  keep  about  their  busi- 
ness. Why  didn't  you  read  the  full  report?" 

"  I  didn't  dare,"  said  Piokee.  "  1  knew  the  men 
were  very  much  excited,  and  was  afraid  they'd  start 
right  out  to  follow  the  example  of  the  Northern  In- 
dians, and  do  something  dreadful  to  the  Oklahoma 
settlers.  But  how  do  you  know  I  didn't  read  it  all  ?  " 

"  Had  the  paper  in  my  pocket,  and  knew  it  word 
for  word.  Bought  it  yesterday  in  Oklahoma  City, 
where  I  stopped  to  trade  my  silver  watch  for  that 
ungainly  little  beast  I  had  to  have  to  reach  the 
camp.  Heard  there  was  to  be  a  ghost  dance  here, 
and  made  a  rush  to  be  in  time  to  take  part  in  the 
fun.  Meant  to  read  the  paper  to  the  men  myself. 
It's  a  wonder  they  would  listen  to  a  girl.  Indians 
don't  believe  in  women's  mixing  up  in  politics,"  and 
the  youth  assumed  a  lofty  tone.  "  That  was  a  dan- 
gerous game  you  tried,"  he  added  warningly.  "  The 


124  PIOKEE   AXD   HER   PEOPLE. 

men  were  waiting  very  anxiously  to  hear  of  an  up- 
rising in  the  North,  and  if  they  knew  you'd  skipped 
the  best  part  they'd  take  you  for  an  enemy  to  the 
cause.  Shouldn't  wonder  if  they'd  even  think  there 
was  a  spy  in  camp,  especially  those  Western  savages 
that  are  working  up  the  ghost  dance  craze." 

Piokee  was  quite  startled  at  this  possible  grave 
result  of  her  omission.  She  had  thought  it  but  a 
harmless  strategem  to  check  the  fire  until  the  ghost 
dance  had  been  held. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  I  am  at  your  mercy,  if  you 
choose  to  read  the  paper  to  the  men  yourself.  The 
rumor  of  the  outbreak  may  be  false,  and  even  if  it 
be  true,  I  thought  the  less  said  of  it  to-day  the 
better,  though  of  course  they'll  hear  it  very  soon." 

The  boy  reached  inside  his  coat,  drew  out  the 
paper  from  a  pocket  bulging  from  one  hip,  tore  it 
into  shreds,  and  stuffed  it  carefully  into  a  wood- 
chuck's  hole  near  by. 

"  I'll  have  a  long  ride  to  town  to-morrow  for  an- 
other paper,  but  'twill  let  you  out  and  I  shall  get 
a  later  one.  By  that  time  there'll  be  news  worth 
reading,  and  'twill  be  huge  fun  to  start  out  with  the 
Cheys  and  Raps  as  a  Messiah  reader." 

"  Are  those  wild  strangers  Cheyennes  and  Ara- 
pahoes  ?  "  Piokee  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  heard  of  them  before  I  struck  the  camp. 
Was  told  they're  keeping  very  sly,  as  they  are  off 


AN   ESCAPED   LUNATIC.  125 

their  reservation,  without  a  ticket  of  leave  from  the 
big  white  man,  who  says  to  the  Indian,  you  sha'n't 
and  you  shall.  They  expect  to  slip  round  over  sev- 
eral reservations,  and  set  a  pot  of  mischief  brewing 
in  them  all." 

"  But  can  there  be  real  danger  of  an  outbreak  in 
the  Territory?"  said  Piokee  with  a  shiver. 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  the  war-like  answer.  "  I'd  like 
to  help  wipe  out  the  Oklahoma  settlers  and  make  a 
raid  across  the  Kansas  border." 

"  0,  no,  no  !  you  surely  wouldn't  wish  to  do  that," 
she  exclaimed  in  horror.  "I  have  friends  there  on 
the  border  —  the  dearest  friends  in  all  the  world ; 
I  should  be  distracted  if  I  thought  they  were  in 
danger." 

Again  the  look  of  quizzical  curiosity,  as  if  Piokee's 
history  would  be  of  interest  to  the  youth. 

"Perhaps  you've  been  at  school  over  there,  and 
found  the  white  folks  friendly,"  he  surmised.  "  The 
pale-faced  fellows  treated  me  first-rate  at  school,  and 
I  was  chummy  with  a  few  of  them.  'Twill  seem  a 
little  queer  to  have  to  take  their  scalps,  if  any  of 
them  ever  fall  into  my  clutches  on  the  war-path." 

"  You  must  have  been  at  school  a  good  while," 
said  Piokee,  seeing  very  plainly  that  this  civilized 
young  backslider  was  no  raw  recruit  in  the  compul- 
sory education  ranks. 

"  From   a  little    chap    of   eight.     I'm    seventeen 


126  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

now,"  he  answered  wearily.  "  Doctor  took  me  East 
just  after  father  died  "  —  Piokee  gave  a  little  start 
—  a  put  me  into  trousers  and  a  straight-jacket,  and 
I  haven't  drawn  a  free  breath  since,  till  now.  I  was 
at  Haskell  Institute  four  years  after  Doctor  got 
through  college  in  the  East,  and  for  the  last  two 
years  I've  been  in  torture  at  a  white  boys'  Agricul- 
tural School.  I've  worked  out,  or  shirked  out,  sum- 
mers on  a  farm  in  one  place  and  another.  They 
grind  us  red-skinned  fellows  through  the  routine 
mill,  you  know.  Doctor  was  afraid  the  wild  Indian 
fever  would  break  out  in  me  worse  than  ever,  if  I 
once  got  back  to  the  reservation.  He  expects  to 
make  a  big  two-section  farmer  out  of  me.  Imagine 
how  'twill  strike  him  when  he  sees  me  wearing  paint 
and  feathers  as  a  full-fledged  ghost  dancer." 

"  Doctor  is  your  step-brother  —  Dr.  Whistler  — 
and  you  are  Naopope,  and  I'm  very,  very  sorry  you 
are  here  in  this  way,"  said  Piokee,  as  she  gave  the 
civilized  young  savage  a  glance  of  mingled  recogni- 
tion and  reproof. 

"  And  you  are  —  bless  my  moccasins  !  I  wonder 
if  you  are  Piokee  —  the  goody-goody  girl  I've  heard 
so  much  about  from  Doctor!  "  queried  Nao. 

"  I  am  Piokee,  but  I'm  not  a  goody-goody  girl," 
she  answered  humbly ;  "  I  ought  not  to  find  one 
word  of  fault  with  you,  for  I'm  a  runaway  myself." 

"  Oh !  ah !     Well,  well !  I'm  very,  very  sorry  you 


AN   ESCAPED   LUNATIC.  127 

are  here  in  this  way,"  laughed  the  mocking  scape- 
grace, with  a  burst  of  whimsical  delight. 

"But  I  couldn't  help  it,"  she  exclaimed.  Then 
came  the  story  of  her  flight  from  home. 

Nao  listened  with  the  keenest  interest,  and  tossed 
up  two  burs,  when  he  had  heard  the  whole,  in  warm 
applause  of  Cold  Blast's  course. 

"  Your  father  understands  his  hieroglyphics,"  he 
remarked  with  satisfaction.  "  There  should  be  a 
gathering  in  of  all  the  children  of  the  tribes.  The 
Messiah  will  want  to  find  us  on  the  reservation, 
when  he  comes  to  turn  things  upside  down." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    GHOST    DANCE. 

AN  enormous  pile  of  brush  had  been  collected 
by  the  squaws,  to  feed  the  two  bonfires  that 
threw  their  glare  across  the  magic  circle  wherein 
the  ghost  dancers  were  to  hold  their  orgies. 

In  the  hasty  preparation  for  the  dance,  ghost 
robes  were  beyond  the  reach  of  many,  but  one 
Messiah-crazed  devotee  sacrificed  his  cotton  tent  to 
furnish  winding  sheets,  in  which  a  number  of  the 
dancers  wrapped  themselves. 

"  Whatever  should  we  do  if  father  were  to  strip 
our  tent  in  pieces?"  Piokee  said  to  Fauqua,  as 
from  the  door  of  their  tepee  they  watched  the 
shrouded  forms  that  wore  the  ghost  robes,  gliding 
to  and  fro  before  the  dance  began.  "  Our  neighbors 
have  no  room  to  spare,  but  a  storm  is  coining,  and 
we'd  have  to  crowd  in  somewhere.  How  forlorn 
we'd  feel." 

"  The  Messiah  is  expected  when  the  pigeons  turn 

128 


THE    GHOST    DANCE.  129 

round  on  their  roosts  at  midnight,"  said  Nao,  burst- 
ing on  her  vision  in  full  ghost-dance  rig.  "He'll 
fix  things  up  all  right,  and  give  us  regular  Fourth 
of  July  weather.  Tepees  will  spring  up  at  the 
waving  of  his  wand,  and  our  departed  ancestors 
will  flock  back  from  the  happy  hunting  grounds, 
driving  herds  of  deer  and  buffalo.  There'll  be  no 
lack  of  elbow-room,  for  all  the  whites  will  be  exter- 
minated in  a  jiffy,  their  towns  gulped  down  by  one 
tremendous  earthquake,  and  the  reds  will  hold  the 
fort  alone,  precisely  as  they  did  before  Columbus 
poked  his  nose  into  the  Indians'  affairs." 

Nao  had  cast  off  his  coat  and  vest,  and  wore  a 
strip  of  tent  cloth  pinned  with  thorns  around  him 
for  a  ghost  shirt.  He  had  rolled  his  trousers  to  the 
knee,  his  feet  and  legs  were  bare,  likewise  his  arms 
and  head.  His  face  was  streaked  with  yellow  paint, 
and  the  buzzard  quills  had  emigrated  from  his  hat- 
crown  to  his  scalp-lock.  Wound  around  his  waist 
were  cords  of  grape-vine,  under  which  was  tucked  a 
fringe  of  squirrel  tails.  A  tuft  of  hair  resembling 
a  human  scalp-lock,  but  really  red  fox-fur,  dangled 
from  a  string  about  his  neck.  The  look  of  merry 
mockery  was  still  on  his  face,  in  curious  contrast  to 
the  fierceness  of  his  make-up. 

"  Do  you  think  I'll  do  ? "  said  he,  straightening 
proudly  up  in  huge  enjoyment  of  Piokee's  look  of 
horror. 


130  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  You  are  truly  hideous,  and  you  couldn't  have 
chosen  a  surer  way  to  heap  disgrace  on  your 
brother,"  she  replied  with  gentle  scorn. 

"  Humph !  "  ejaculated  Nao,  with  a  real  Indian 
grunt.  "  My  brother  heaps  disgrace  on  me  by  turn- 
ing a  cold  shoulder  to  the  ghost  dance  picnic.  He 
pretends  to  be  an  0  K  Indian,  but  he  is  a  white  man 
from  his  standing  collar  to  his  gaiters.  Shouldn't 
wonder  if  he'd  try  to  bleach  his  skin,  next  thing, 
and  raise  a  blonde  mustache.  Bah  !  an  Indian  is  a 
played-out  curiosity  without  his  paint  and  feathers, 
and  his  scalping  knife  and  war-whoop." 

Seeing  words  were  useless,  Piokee  turned  away, 
while  Nao  took  his  place  among  the  dancers. 

Happily,  Cold  Blast's  Messiah  fervor  did  not  rise 
to  such  a  pitch  that  he  contributed  his  tepee  for 
ghost  robes.  It  remained  a  place  of  shelter,  and  into 
it  Piokee  crept  with  Nanno,  while  Fauqua  joined 
the  squaws  and  girls  who  sat  upon  the  ground 
behind  the  dancers,  and  raised  their  voices  in  a 
weird,  monotonous  howl.  They  were  accompanied 
by  the  tomtom,  beaten  by  an  aged  brave,  whose 
dancing  days  were  over. 

Up,  and  other  embryo  warriors,  occupied  the  mid- 
dle ground,  between  the  dancers  and  the  squaws 
and  girls,  gloating  on  the  spectacle  and  envying 
their  sires  and  elder  brothers  the  exalted  privilege 
of  joining  in  the  revel, 


THE    GHOST    DANCE.  131 

"Nanno,"  said  Piokee,  sinking  down  before  the 
tent  fire,  with  her  arms  about  the  child,  "  the  craze 
has  seized  the  camp,  and  the  ghost  dance  has  begun. 
Father  is  a  dancer ;  Up  is  looking  on  and  wishing 
he  were  old  enough  to  be  one,  too.  Dr.  Whistler's 
brother  is  in  the  dreadful  scrape,  and  mother  is 
among  the  singers.  She  can't  help  believing  in  the 
Indian  Messiah,  like  all  the  rest  who've  gone  stark 
crazy,  though  I'm  sure  she  doesn't  want  to  in  her 
heart  of  hearts.  She  knows  the  dear  Lord  Jesus 
loves  the  Indian,  and  will  take  care  of  us  and  give 
us  all  we  need  as  He  thinks  best.  She  knows  it, 
Nanno,  but  she  has  forgotten  it  just  now.  But  we 
must  not  forget  it  for  a  single  instant.  Nanno, 
Nanno,  do  you  understand  ?  The  dear  Lord  Jesus 
is  the  true  Messiah  and  the  only  one  to  help  the 
Indian." 

"  I  care,"  said  Nanno,  with  her  solemn  eyes  up- 
lifted to  Piokee' s. 

"Yes;  you  may  care  now — you  must  care  —  you 
are  not  too  young  to  care  for  this."  Her  voice 
grew  more  intense  in  its  appeal.  "  Out  of  the 
mouth  of  babes  has  thou  ordained  strength  because 
of  thine  enemies,"  came  to  her;  words  she  had  so 
often  read  with  Mamma  Prairie. 

But  a  strange  unrest  had  seized  Piokee.  Through 
the  flapping  curtain  at  the  door  of  the  tepee  she 
could  see  the  whirling  figures  of  the  dancers,  and 


132  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

she  suddenly  became  possessed  of  a  desire  to  be 
near  them,  with  her  eyes  upon  the  terrible  but 
fascinating  spectacle. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  it  all  ?  she  asked  her- 
self in  breathless  fright.  The  superstitious  spirit  of 
her  race  —  was  it  taking  hold  of  her  like  all  the 
rest,  and  was  there  no  escape  ? 

Grasping  Nanno's  hand  she  rushed  into  the  open 
air,  and  smothering  a  wild  desire  to  join  the  singers 
and  lift  up  her  voice  with  theirs,  she  retreated  far 
into  the  background,  where  she  threw  herself  on  a 
bed  of  leaves  against  a  log,  hugging  Nanno  in  her 
arms. 

Yes ;  the  frenzy  was  upon  her,  and  her  faith  in 
Jesus  was  fast  slipping  from  her.  Nothing  more 
than  empty  words  now  seemed  the  prayers  she  had 
been  taught  to  offer  up  at  Mamma  Prairie's  knee. 
If  Jesus  was  the  Indian's  Messiah,  why  had  He  so 
long  forgotten  them,  and  left  them  as  the  pitiful 
outcasts  of  a  scornful  world?  There  must  be  a 
new  Messiah,  who  would  have  a  heart  to  love  and 
pity  even  the  unlovable,  forbidding  Indian. 

Ah !  yes,  in  very  truth  the  new  Messiah  was 
coming.  She  almost  fancied  she  could  hear  the 
rustle  of  his  feet  among  the  wind-tossed  leaves,  and 
the  music  of  his  voice  above  the  pandemonium  of 
the  ghost  dance. 

A  rustle   of  feet  there  surely  was,  and  Piokee 


THE    GHOST    DANCE.  133 

started  with  an  eager  tremor  as  she  heard  it  close 
behind  her. 

A  man  had  ridden  up  on  horseback,  and  was  now 
dismounting  with  an  agile  spring. 

The  bonfires  threw  long  flickering  rays  into  the 
rear,  and  by  their  light  Piokee  saw  a  straight,  lithe 
figure  which  she  knew  at  once,  although  his  face 
was  turned  from  her,  as  he  was  fastening  his  horse's 
bridle  to  a  tree. 

"  0,  my  chief !  my  chief ! "  she  cried,  dropping 
Nanno  from  her  lap,  and  starting  up  to  clasp  her 
hands  about  his  arm.  "  The  new  Messiah  is  coming 
—  we  think  he  will  be  here  at  midnight,  and  the 
ghost  dance  will  be  kept  up  till  he  comes.  Don't 
you  see  them  over  there  ?"  pointing  to  the  whirling, 
swaying  figures  of  the  frenzied  dancers.  "They 
are  growing  more  and  more  in  earnest.  He  must 
surely  hear  their  cries  and  come  to-night." 

"I  should  think  so  —  if  he's  ever  coming.  Those 
howls  would  raise  the  roof  of  the  firmament,  and 
penetrate  the  region  of  the  ghosts  if  it  were  possi- 
ble. I  heard  them  miles  away,"  said  Dr.  Whistler 
dryly,  as  he  turned  and  faced  Piokee.  He  showed 
no  more  surprise  at  seeing  her  in  this  strange 
situation,  than  if  the  meeting  had  been  previously 
arranged. 

rtOh!  you  don't  believe  it,"  said  Piokee,  beneath 
the  spell,  and  shocked  by  his  lack  of  reverence. 


134  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  But  I  do.  I  have  been  converted  since  the  dance 
began.  And  we  all  do  —  father,  mother,  Up,  and 
even  little  Nanno  —  or  she  will  as  soon  as  I  can 
make  her  understand.  And  you  mustn't  try  to 
change  my  faith.  You  would  be  very  cruel  if  you 
did." 

She  was  trembling  with  excitement,  and  her  face, 
across  which  swept  a  red  glow  from  the  bonfires, 
wore  a  rapt,  exalted  look. 

"  Well,  well,  dear  child,  believe  it,  if  you  must,  a 
little  while,"  said  Dr.  Whistler  soothingly,  "and  I 
will  share  your  vigil,  if  you  are  resolved  to  watch 
for  the  Messiah  —  who  can  never  come,  alas !  for 
our  deluded  people,"  he  was  about  to  add,  but 
checked  himself,  remembering  her  appeal  that  he 
would  not  attempt  to  change  her  faith.  "  But  you 
have  on  no  wrap,  and  you  are  shivering  like  a  leaf." 
She  had  left  her  ulster  in  the  tent.  "  I  must  throw 
a  shawl  about  you." 

Stepping  to  his  horse,  he  reached  into  his  right- 
hand  saddle-bag,  took  out  a  long,  warm  shawl,  and 
wrapped  Piokee  in  its  fleecy  folds. 

"  Oh  !  this  is  nice  and  soft,  and  so  sweet-smelling," 
she  exclaimed,  drawing  it  about  her  in  a  kind  of 
dazed  delight.  "  Why,"  she  bent  to  look  at  it  and 
stroked  it  softly,  coming  slowly  to  herself,  "  it 
looks  and  feels  like  Mamma  Prairie's  shawl."  She 
snatched  it  off  and  held  it  up  between  the  firelight 


THE    GHOST    DANCE.  135 

and  her  eyes,  then  gave  a  quick,  pathetic  little  cry, 
and  hugged  it  tightly  in  her  arms.  "  It  is  the  dear, 
warm  pretty  shawl  that  Miriam  and  I  have  snug- 
gled in  so  often  —  we  two  sitting  out  on  the  piazza 
steps  to  watch  the  stars !  It  smells  of  violets,  like 
all  of  Mamma  Prairie's  lovely  things."  She  held  it 
to  her  face  and  hungrily  inhaled  the  faint  delicious 
odor.  "  Oh !  the  precious  shawl,  and  precious  Miriam 
and  Mamma  Prairie.  Did  they  send  it  with  their 
love,  and  did  you  bring  it  straight  from  home  ? 
Why,  I  am  all  back  again !  "  She  spoke  as  one 
awaking  from  a  dream.  "  There  is  no  new  Mes- 
siah. The  dear  Lord  Jesus  loves  the  Indian,  but 
oh  !  I  am  so  homesick  —  and  I  must  go  home." 

Sinking  down,  she  hid  herself  beneath  the  violet- 
scented  shawl,  and  moaned  and  wept. 

"I  care,"  said  Nanno,  squatting  by  her  side,  a 
timid,  patient  little  figure,  not  venturing  to  intrude 
within  the  sacred  cover  of  the  shawl. 

Piokee  took  her  quickly  in,  and  wet  the  red  hood 
with  another  gush  of  tears. 

Dr.  Whistler  whisked  out  his  handkerchief,  but 
turned  away,  and  let  her  ease  her  heart  by  crying 
till  the  fountain  of  her  tears  ran  dry. 

He  fixed  his  eyes  with  much  anxiety  on  the 
ghost  dance  that  had  now  become  a  perfect  bed- 
lam, the  dark,  fierce  faces  of  the  dancers  gleaming 
with  exultant  fire,  their  bodies  swaying  faster  and 


136  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

still  faster,  in  fantastic  rhythm  to  the  hubbub  of 
the  chant.  The  dancers  joined  their  voices  with 
the  singers,  each  according  to  his  gift  of  speech,  ex- 
pressing his  uncomplimentary  opinion  of  the  white 
man,  and  imploring  the  Messiah  to  make  a  speedy 
end  of  him. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE   YOUNG   DANCERS   DOWNFALL. 

AT  length  Piokee  became  calmer,  and  rose  to  a 
less  dejected  attitude  on  the  log,  where  Dr. 
Whistler  sat  down  beside  her,  holding  Nanno  on 
his  knee.  They  were  unobserved  by  the  others,  for 
the  whole  camp  were  completely  spellbound  by  the 
ghost  dance,  and  all  eyes  were  riveted  upon  it. 

As  well  as  she  was  able  for  the  din  that  filled  the 
woods,  Piokee  hastily  explained  her  flight  from 
home.  When  she  had  finished,  Dr.  Whistler  said : 

"  A  telegram  from  Mr.  Bowers,  saying  you  had 
disappeared,  came  to  me  in  Washington,  and  I  at 
once  suspected  you  had  joined  your  people.  I  re- 
membered your  disquietude  during  my  few  hours' 
visit  at  the  ranch  some  weeks  ago,  and  the  advice  I 
gave  you  just  before  I  left  —  about  your  duty  to  the 
imaginary  little  brother  and  sister,  as  I  unwittingly 
expressed  myself.  Little  did  I  think  there  were 
real  ties  to  draw  you  here." 

137 


138  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

He  settled  Nanno's  sleepy  head  against  his  breast, 
and  mercifully  refrained  from  showing  disapproval 
of  Piokee's  secret  course. 

"  By  rare  good  fortune  I  had  closed  the  business 
that  had  taken  me  to  Washington,  and  on  receiving 
Mr.  Bowers's  startling  telegram  I  took  the  first  train 
West.  Stopping  at  the  ranch,  I  learned  that  Mr. 
Bowers  and  Ebenezer  had  pursued  the  soap  peddler, 
whose  orchestra  they  thought  you  might  have  joined, 
to  find  themselves  on  the  wrong  trail  in  their  search 
for  you.  I  assured  Mamma  Prairie  of  my  belief  that 
I  should  find  you  with  your  people,  though  I  could 
not  understand  what  claim  there  was  upon  you  here. 
I  knew  nothing  of  your  father  who,  it  seems,  has 
lived  until  lately  on  a  distant  quarter  of  the  reser- 
vation where  his  wife  belonged. 

"  Coming  to  the  reservation,  I  searched  from 
place  to  place,  and  in  a  few  days  found  your  father's 
hut.  I  learned  his  history  from  an  aged  squaw 
named  Keotach,  living  in  the  village.  She  knew 
him  years  ago,  in  Kansas,  and  also  knew  of  your 
adoption  by  the  little  claim-girl.  It  was  through 
this  Keotach  that  he  traced  you  to  the  ranch,  lay  in 
wait  for  you,  and  finally  persuaded  you  to  leave 
home  as  you  did." 

"  Of  course  you  can't  help  blaming  me  for  run- 
ning off  in  so  sly  a  way,  though  you  are  too  kind  to 
tell  me  so,"  Piokee  said  remorsefully. 


THE   YOUNG   DANCER'S   DOWNFALL.  141 

"  How  can  I  blame  you,  my  poor  child,  when  you 
have  but  followed  my  advice  ?"  said  he.  "  Perhaps 
it  was  the  only  way,  but  had  I  known  the  truth  it 
would  have  cost  me  something  of  a  struggle  to  in- 
clude you  in  the  host  of  tender  young  crusaders 
that  must  be  sacrificed  to  save  our  race,"  he  added 
mournfully. 

"  Mamma  Prairie  —  you  will  send  her  word  and 
ask  her  to  forgive  me  ?  "  said  Piokee,  almost  break- 
ing down  again. 

"  Yes  ;  I  will  send  a  letter  from  the  nearest  town 
as  soon  as  I  can  reach  it,"  he  replied.  "It  will 
comfort  you  to  know  she  is  still  trusting  in  her 
foster-daughter,  however  great  the  mystery  of  her 
disappearance." 

"  Dear,  dear  Mamma  Prairie !  But  tell  her  that 
I  cannot  leave  my  people.  I  must  always  stay  with 
them.  Nanno  couldn't  spare  me  now.  She  cares, 
you  see,  and  Up  will  care,  too,  just  as  soon  as  I  can 
find  some  way  to  make  him." 

Nanno' s  care  was  very  plain,  but  for  Up  she  gave 
a  rather  doubtful  sigh. 

The  squaws  were  throwing  on  fresh  fuel,  and  the 
bonfires  sent  another  flood  of  light  into  the  rear 
where  sat  the  three,  the  child  now  fast  asleep  in  the 
strong  arms  clasping  her. 

"  Yes ;  you  will  have  to  stay,"  said  Dr.  Whistler, 
turning  to  Piokee  with  a  poor  attempt  to  be  as 


142  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

brave  as  she.  For  himself  he  could  be  brave  un- 
falteringly, but  for  her  —  he  knew  so  much  and  she 
so  little  of  the  way  before  her.  "  Nanno's  hand  has 
held  the  torch  to  burn  the  bridge  behind  you,  and 
you  can  never  recross  it.  However,  you  and  I  are 
on  this  side  together.  I  shall  take  what  care  of  you 
I  can,  and  trust  in  God  to  do  the  rest." 

It  comforted  Piokee  inexpressibly  to  know  her 
wise,  strong  friend  would  not  be  very  far  from  her 
at  all  times,  in  his  journeying  here  and  there  among 
the  sick  on  the  reservation. 

But  right  before  her  was  the  ghost  dance,  and  she 
had  forgotten  for  a  little  while  that  there  was  Nao 
with  the  dancers.  Should  she  tell  his  guardian 
now,  or  would  he  find  it  out  himself  ere  long  ? 

"  Oh ! "  she  cried,  starting  up  and  covering  her 
eyes  with  both  hands,  but  to  drop  them  suddenly 
and  gaze  once  more  on  the  ghost  dance,  "  Nanno 
must  be  put  to  bed,  and  I  shall  have  to  stuff  my 
ears  with  grass,  and  tie  a  bandage  on  my  eyes,  and 
cover  up  my  head  inside  the  tent,  or  I  shall  be 
bewitched  again.  But  you  must  stay  and  watch. 
Some  accident  may  happen  to  —  some  one  —  they're 
all  so  terribly  excited ;  and  you  may  be  needed  near 
the  ring." 

Dr.  Whistler  carried  Nanno  to  the  door  of  the 
tepee.  There  Piokee  laid  her  on  a  wolf-skin  spread 
upon  a  bed  of  leaves  within,  and  covered  her  with 


THE    YOUNG   DANCER'S    DOWNFALL.  143 

'the  Navajo  blankets.  The  child  slept  sweetly  on, 
unconscious  of  the  din  about  her. 

But  Piokee  could  not  keep  her  resolution  not  to 
look  again  on  the  ghost  dance,  and  no  sooner  had 
she  settled  Nanno  in  the  leafy  bunk  than  she  has- 
tened to  the  door,  and  drawing  back  the  curtain 
closely  watched  the  scene.  Dr.  Whistler  was  standing 
just  outside,  like  a  sentinel  on  guard. 

The  ring  was  now  in  full  view,  and  every  move- 
ment of  the  dancers  was  distinctly  visible  to  their 
eyes. 

As  they  watched  the  violent  gyrations,  all  at  once 
they  saw  a  boyish  figure,  overcome  by  the  exertion 
of  the  dance,  give  way  and  fall  unconscious  to  the 
ground. 

Dr.  Whistler  was  springing  forward  with  profes- 
sional promptness,  when  Piokee  breathlessly  ex- 
claimed : 

"  It's  Nao  !  Oh  !  be  quick,  or  they  will  trample 
on  him."  And  she  started  also  to  the  rescue. 

"  Nao  !  "  whirling  round  to  her.  "  Have  you  lost 
your  senses,  child?  Don't  follow  me.  Go  back 
into  the  tent,"  was  the  almost  fierce  command. 

She  obeyed  ;  but  peering  from  the  door  she  saw  a 
number  of  the  squaws  dragging  Nao  from  beneath 
the  dancers'  feet. 

Dr.  Whistler  was  well  known  and  much  respected 
as  a  loyal  leader  in  his  tribe ;  and  even  those  who 


144  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

clung  to  medicine-making  as  the  proper  faith  for  a 
religious  powwow,  did  not  scorn  the  treatment  of 
this  wise  physician  when  their  tongues  were  furred 
with  fever,  and  they  were  racked  with  pain.  The 
squaws  fell  back  as  he  approached,  delivering  the 
unconscious  boy  into  his  hands.  Fauqua  glided  on 
before  him,  and  he  bore  the  limp  form,  drenched  in 
clammy  sweat,  to  Cold  Blast's  tent.  They  were  fol- 
lowed by  a  small  procession  of  the  squaws  and  girls, 
whose  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  young  dancer  led 
them  to  forsake  the  revel  for  the  moment.  But  the 
dance  went  on  as  ever. 

Piokee  spread  a  blanket  on  the  ground  before  the 
fire,  and  the  boy  was  laid  thereon.  She  also  brought 
a  bag  of  leaves,  and  placed  it  for  a  pillow  underneath 
his  head. 

Nao's  face  looked  wan  and  set,  but  scarcely  more 
so  than  his  brother's  bending  over  him. 

"I  thought  the  boy  was  safe  in  school,"  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  with  a  sharp  pain  in  his  voice.  "  Was  it 
not  enough  that  you  were  here,  Piokee  ?  Is  there 
no  end  to  this  wretched  snarl  in  which  we  are  all 
twisted  up?"  he  questioned  in  despair;  "no  way 
that  it  can  be  unraveled  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  chief ;  the  end  is  in  God's  hand,"  re- 
plied Piokee,  kneeling  down  to  gently  bathe  the 
painted  face.  It  was  now  her  turn  to  soothe  the 
doubter. 


THE    YOUNG    DANCER'S    DOWNFALL.  145 

The  squaws  and  girls  were  hovering  round  the 
spot  where  Nao  lay ;  but  being  urged  back  by  a 
wave  of  Dr.  Whistler's  hand  they  squatted  near  the 
dpor,  and  watched  intently  for  some  sign  that  life 
was  not  extinct  in  the  young  dancer's  prostrate  body. 

"I  say,  old  fellow,  that's  enough,"  gasped  Nao, 
coming  to  himself,  and  struggling  to  escape  the 
strong  restorative  Dr.  Whistler  was  holding  to  his 
nose.  "  I  was  dreaming  of  a  ghost  dance  —  and  I 
tell  you  it  —  was  —  glorious,"  he  murmured  in  a 
sinking  tone. 

Finding  Nao  had  not  wholly  danced  the  breath  of 
life  away,  the  singers  made  haste  to  rejoin  the 
ghost  dance  chorus  —  all  save  Fauqua,  who  had 
somewhat  lost  her  fervor  through  the  interruption. 
At  Piokee's  earnest  wish  she  $id  not  leave  the  tent 
again. 

While  the  squaws  and  girls  were  taking  leave, 
Nao  swooned  again,  and  lay  for  some  time  in  a  pallid 
stupor. 

"  Ah,  Doctor,  is  that  you  ? "  opening  his  eyes 
with  a  bewildered  stare.  "  Well,  old  fellow,  glad  to 
see  you  —  no,  I'm  not ;  you're  the  very  person  I 
don't  care  to  see  just  now,"  he  broke  out,  rising  on 
one  elbow,  and  struggling  to  escape  the  Doctor's 
hands.  "  It's  all  as  clear  as  moonshine  now.  I  was 
getting  on  first-rate  when  all  at  once  my  head  began 
to  spin,  and  I  began  to  dance  a  whirligig,  and  every- 


146  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

thing  turned  black  as  pitch.  Bah !  the  school  has 
made  me  weaker  than  a  squaw.  Let  go  of  me.  I'm 
going  back  to  dance  it  out,  and  show  what  kind  of 
stuff  I  had  in  rne  before  you  went  to  work  to  spoil 
a  first-class  warrior  with  your  civilized  coddling." 

"  No,  my  boy,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  pinning  Nao 
firmly,  but  not  roughly,  to  the  ground ;  "  you've 
had  enough  of  it  for  once.  Lie  still,  and  go  to  sleep 
and  dream  of  better  things  than  the  tomfoolery 
going  on  out  there." 

"  Let  go  of  me,  I  say !  "  yelled  Nao,  struggling 
still  more.  "  I'm  going  back  to  dance  it  out,  I  tell 
you." 

"Spare  your  puny  strength,  my  spoilt  young 
warrior,"  said  the  Doctor,  striving  very  hard  to 
keep  his  temper.  "  After  all  is  said  and  done,  you 
will  still  be  right  here  under  my  control.  You  are 
suffering  from  a  pronounced  attack  of  the  Messiah 
craze,  and  if  you  become  too  violent  I  shall  have  to 
treat  you  as  I  sometimes  do  my  other  patients  in 
delirium." 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Nao,  resting  on  his  back 
to  scan  the  resolute  face  above  him. 

"  Administer  a  powerful  but  harmless  anaesthetic. 
You  will  go  to  sleep  and  not  awake,  I  hope,  until 
the  crisis  of  your  mania  is  past." 

"  Well,  you've  beaten  me  this  time,"  said  Nao, 
giving  up ;  "  but  I  warn  you  it  will  do  no  good 


THE    YOUNG    DANCER'S    DOWNFALL.  147 

You've  been  trying  to  make  a  white  man  out  of  me 
too  long.  Hereafter  I  shall  be  a  regular  old-time 
whooping  savage  —  where's  the  smelling  bottle,  old 
head-chief?  Ugh!  I'm  dancing  that — confounded 
—  whirligig  —  again."  Here  Nao,  to  his  ineffable 
disgust,  had  another  fainting  fit. 

The  doctor  quickly  raised  his  head,  and  once 
more  brought  him  to  consciousness. 

Seeing  that  he  was  completely  overdone,  Nao 
now  became  quite  docile,  and  without  a  murmur 
took  the  stimulant  that  Dr.  Whistler  dropped  into 
his  mouth  from  a  little  vial  taken  from  the  medicine 
case  the  doctor  carried  in  his  pocket. 

Before  long  Nao  fell  into  the  heavy  sleep  that 
naturally  follows  a  complete  collapse  of  nerve  and 
muscle.  Wrapping  him  more  closely  in  the  blan- 
ket, Dr.  Whistler  spread  his  top-coat  over  him  to 
guard  against  the  chilly  air  that  filled  the  tent,  and 
watched  beside  him  with  an  anxious,  careworn  face. 

Sitting  down  before  the  fire,  Fauqua  dropped  her 
head  upon  her  knees  and  slept.  Piokee  crept  into 
the  bunk  with  Nanno,  in  a  little  nook  which  she 
had  parted  off  by  hanging  up  a  crazy  patchwork 
curtain  —  Fauqua' s  work  of  art  —  wherein  were 
blended  scraps  of  blankets,  gunny-sacks,  and  even 
cast-off  leggings. 


CHAPTER   XVH. 

NAOPOPE'S  FAME. 

THE  ghost  dance  ceased  at  dawn,  the  ardor  of 
the  dancers  being  dampened  by  a  dismal  rain 
that  began  to  fall  toward  morning. 

Having  sought  the  shelter  of  the  tents,  to  snatch 
a  little  sleep  and  such  food  as  the  camp  afforded, 
the  braves  were  ready  for  another  council  before 
the  Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes  stole  away  to  stir  up 
mischief  elsewhere. 

Nao,  who  awoke  clear-headed,  though  stiff-jointed, 
in  the  morning,  feared  that  he  would  be  an  object 
of  derision,  owing  to  his  lack  of  stamina  to  endure 
the  dance ;  but  to  his  surprise  and  satisfaction  there 
was  set  afloat  a  rumor  which  soon  became  a  settled 
fact,  that  "  Young  Queer  Clothes,"  as  he  was  called, 
had  fallen  in  a  trance  occasioned  by  a  special  out/- 
pour of  the  spirit  of  the  new  Messiah  on  him  alone. 

Thus  he  became  a  hero  of  much  note,  and  but  for 
his  extreme  youth  would  at  once  have  been  ap- 

148 


NAOPOPE'S  FAME.  149 

pointed  a  prophet  of  the  red  god,  with  full  license 
to  expound  the  hidden  meaning  of  the  new  religion. 

He  was  called  before  the  council  and  minutely 
questioned  as  to  his  experience  while  absent  from 
the  flesh,  as  was  supposed,  communing  with  the 
august  ruler  soon  to  come.  This  embarrassed  him 
to  some  extent,  but  he  artfully  dodged  the  ques- 
tions, thanking  his  stars  that  Dr.  Whistler,  who  had 
left  the  camp  that  morning,  was  not  there  to  burst 
the  bubble  of  delusion  that  had  won  him  this  false 
fame. 

"  Of  course  I  kept  mum,  shook  my  head,  and 
hinted  that  the  secrets  of  the  happy  hunting 
grounds  mustn't  be  let  out  to  common  fellows,"  he 
confided  to  Piokee  with  amazing  frankness,  after 
he  had  passed  the  ordeal  of  the  council  interview. 

"  But  you  couldn't  pretend  you  saw  such  visions 
as  they  think  you  did.  Of  course  you  wouldn't 
stoop  to  such  deceit  as  that,"  Piokee  said,  with 
dawning  disdain  in  her  serious  eyes. 

"  Why,  it's  just  this  way,"  evaded  Nao,  "  if  I'd 
told  them  my  pegs  gave  out  last  night,  I  should 
have  broken  the  record  of  the  ghost  dancer  by 
being  accused  of  false  modesty.  I  could  truthfully 
declare  I  saw  stars  tumbling  heels  over  head  — 
when  I  struck  the  ground  —  and  they  took  that  as 
a  sign  that  the  white  men  will  do  likewise  when  the 
Indian  Messiah  orders  him  to  quit  the  world.  At 


150  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

any  rate,  I'm  solid  with  the  Cheys  and  Raps,  and 
they've  engaged  me  for  a  reader,  promising  to 
spread  my  fame  abroad." 

"But  don't  you  see  how  you  are  worrying  Dr. 
Whistler?  Does  he  know  what  you  intend  to  do  ?" 
Piokee  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  told  him  just  before  he  left  camp,  and 
to  my  surprise  he  didn't  try  to  talk  me  out  of  it. 
He  said  I'd  need  some  Indian  toggery  to  be  a  fit 
associate  of  the  Cheys  and  Raps,  and  offered  me 
the  cash  to  buy  a  blanket  and  the  other  fixings. 
Said  I'd  have  to  buckle  on  a  tomahawk  and  scalping 
knife  to  be  a  regular  old-timer;  but  I  told  him  I 
could  make  a  pistol  do  till  I  was  fairly  on  the  war- 
path." 

"0,  dear,  dear!  he's  killing  you  with  kindness, 
and  you're  trying  to  break  his  heart,"  Piokee  cried 
reproachfully. 

"  Well,  I  shall  be  alive  to-morrow,  all  the  same. 
A  whooping  savage  isn't  often  killed  with  kindness," 
answered  Nao.  "And  the  old  head-chief  isn't  as 
soft-hearted  as  you  may  imagine.  He  has  turned 
me  out  of  his  tepee,  so  to  speak,  into  the  howling 
wilderness  to  beat  my  way  or  starve.  He  says  a 
civilized  doctor  and  a  whooping  savage  would  dis- 
grace each  other  in  a  brotherly  respect.  If  the 
civilized  way  is  wrong  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
him,  and  if  the  whooper's  way  is  wrong  he  ought 


NAOPOPE'S  FAME.  151 

to  be  ashamed  of  me.  Good  reasoning  that,  and  I 
agree  with  him." 

u  Oh !  it  is  all  so  very  dreadful,"  sighed  Piokee, 
"  and  I  know  it  makes  our  good  kind  doctor  miser- 
able to  have  to  cast  you  off.  But  you  can't  be  in 
deadly  earnest,  for  you're  laughing  half  the  time, 
and  an  Indian  who  really  means  to  rob  and  burn 
and  scalp  looks  far  more  fierce  than  you ;  in  spite 
of  all  your  paint  and  feathers  you  are  only  thirst- 
ing for  adventure,  like  so  many  other  foolish  boys, 
but  you'll  get  tired  of  it  soon  enough.  When  you've 
ridden  through  the  rain  and  sleet  and  snow,  and 
slept  out  on  the  ground  without  so  much  as  a 
wicki-up  for  shelter,  and  you're  cold  and  hungry 
and  discouraged  to  the  very  tip  end  of  your  toes, 
you'll  be  ready  to  come  back  and  be  a  civilized  boy 
again,  and  Dr.  Whistler  will  forgive  you  everything." 

"Well,  have  a  monstrous  sandwich  laid  up  in 
your  missionary  cupboard,  and  I'll  eat  it  with  my 
humble  pie  when  I  come  back  starved  out,"  laughed 
Nao.  With  a  farewell  wave  of  his  savage  headgear 
he  left  the  dripping  tent  to  mount  his  pony  and  ride 
forth  to  buy  his  Indian  toggery  and  the  papers  with 
the  latest  ghost-dance  news.  He  was  to  meet  the 
Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes  next  day  on  another 
reservation,  ready  to  begin  his  work  as  a  Messiah 
reader. 

The  pecan  woods  along  the  river  bottom  having 


152  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

been  well  stripped  of  nuts,  the  little  band  of  campers 
pulled  down  their  tepees,  to  re-pitch  them  in  the 
village  straggling  along  a  creek  some  miles  away. 

More  fortunate  than  many  others,  Cold  Blast  had 
a  hut  some  little  distance  from  the  village,  hence 
his  old  tepee,  brought  from  Fauqua's  quarter  of  the 
reservation  with  his  other  scant  effects,  was  stowed 
away  beneath  the  hut-roof  when  the  family  came 
back  from  nutting. 

Cold  Blast  was  just  starting  for  the  agency  to  sell 
the  nuts  that  filled  his  rickety  creaking  cart.  This 
vehicle  was  balanced  on  two  wheels  of  different 
size,  which  gave  the  cart  a  very  tipsy  air,  as  if  the 
smaller  wheel  were  constantly  revolving  in  a  rut. 

Piokee,  who  had  learned  to  dread  the  terrible 
father  somewhat  less  as  she  became  more  used  to 
him,  plucked  up  courage  to  beseech  him  to  expend 
the  pecan  money  for  such  articles  of  food  and  cloth- 
ing and  for  household  use  as  were  sadly  needed  by 
the  family.  These  she  strove  to  fix  on  his  memory 
by  the  plainest  explanation  she  could  make. 

"Now,  father,  don't  forget  the  soap  and  broom 
and  washtub,  and  the  clothesline  and  five  dozen 
clothespins.  Then  there's  what  we  need  to  eat  — 
flour  and  sugar,  beans  and  salt,  and  all  the  rest. 
I've  written  down  a  list  of  everything,  and  you  can 
give  it  to  the  man  who  keeps  the  store.  Here  it  is ; 
and  pray  don't  lose  it  on  the  way,"  and  she  went 


NAOPOPE'S  FAME.  153 

down  into  her  pocket  for  a  piece  of  coarse  brown 
paper  she  had  neatly  stripped  from  a  hominy  bag 
on  which  to  write  the  memorandum  with  the  treas- 
ured pencil  she  had  brought  from  home. 

"And,  father,  maybe  some  of  those  poor  Okla- 
homa settlers  near  the  border,  who  have  got  starved 
out  and  had  to  quit  their  claims,  have  sold  some  of 
their  rickety  chairs  for  almost  nothing ;  do  please 
buy  them.  Chairs,  you  know,  are  what  you  use  to 
sit  on,"  and  she  gave  a  little  downward  dip  as  an 
expressive  sign.  "  They're  made  of  wood,  and 
maybe  you  could  get  a  half-dozen  —  poor  old  things 
—  for  something  like  a  dollar  and  a  half. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  went  on  with  her  plans,  while 
Cold  Blast  squatted  like  a  massive  statue  on  the 
load  above  her,  listening  as  if  his  ears  were  made  of 
copper,  "  you  will  stumble  on  a  rusty  cookstove 
you  can  get  for  very  little  —  say  two  dollars.  I 
sha'n't  care  how  old  it  is,  if  it  will  only  work.  You 
must  have  seen  a  cookstove  somewhere,  father  — 
what  you  make  a  fire  in,  you  know.  It  has  an 
oven  in  the  back  to  bake  in.  I  do  want  to  set  up 
the  tepee  and  put  the  stove  inside  of  it,  and  have 
a  little  school  and  cooking  class,"  she  ventured. 
"  The  girls  could  bring  what  food  they  have  to  eat 
at  home  and  cook  it  in  the  class,  and  have  their 
dinner  all  together  in  the  tent.  It  would  be  clean, 
at  least,  if  there  were  nothing  more  than  beans  and 


154  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

hominy ;  and  I  could  teach  them  how  to  read  and 
write." 

A  grunt  escaped  the  copper  statue  that  appeared 
to  struggle  into  life  from  sheer  amazement  at  these 
strange  demands. 

"  Ugh !  proud  white  man  eat  sweet  flour  stuff. 
Stick  up  on  chairs.  Burn  fire  box,"  slowly  think- 
ing out  the  list  she  had  named.  "  Indian  hate  white 
man's  road.  Messiah  smash  white  man's  things. 
Feel  heap  mad  little  tame  squaw  have  school.  I 
swapee  nuts,  buy  new  war-gun,  fight  white  man. 
Messiah  say  heap  good."  With  this  he  waked  the 
span  of  tousled  mustangs  and  started  on  his  journey 

"  0,  dear  me ! "  exclaimed  Piokee,  as  the  queer 
craft  lurched  away.  "  Father  doesn't  need  another 
gun.  I'm  afraid  he  really  is  preparing  for  the  war- 
path, mother." 

An  expensive  hunting  outfit  had  been  purchased 
with  the  greater  portion  of  Piokee' s  Christmas  gold, 
her  father  throwing  in  his  old  gun  to  the  bargain. 
What  had  not  been  spent  in  this  way  had  been  used 
to  pay  "  big  boot "  in  swapping  ponies,  as  Fauqua 
had  foretold. 

"  Get  heap  mad  Cold  Blast  buy  new  war-gun  ? " 
Fauqua  asked,  seeing  that  Piokee's  face  was  clouded 
with  anxiety. 

"  No,"  she  answered ;  "  I  shall  try  to  be  as  peace- 
able as  you  and  Nanno.  You  don't  scold,  whatever 


NAOPOPE'S  FAME.  155 

happens,  and  Nanno  is  a  perfect  little  martyr  to 
endure  Up's  teasing  ways  so  patiently." 

"Brave  warrior  fight.  Good  squaw  hold  tongue," 
was  Fauqua's  meek  reply. 

"  But  we  must  have  food,  and  it  is  dreadful  to  be 
sitting  on  the  floor  on  skins,  and  eating  from  our 
laps,"  Piokee  sighed.  "I  don't  believe  that  father'll 
ever  want  to  learn  the  white  man's  way  as  you  and 
Nanno  do." 

"I  walk  little  while  in  white  man's  road  long  time 
back,"  said  Fauqua  musingly. 

"  Oh !  did  you  ?  When  —  where  ?  "  Piokee  eagerly 
inquired.  "  I  thought  so ;  for  you  seem  so  different 
from  the  other  women  here." 

Dropping  down  upon  the  ground,  Fauqua  clasped 
her  hands  about  her  knees,  and  began  her  history. 
Piokee  listened  from  the  doorsill  of  the  hut,  Nanno 
sitting  on  the  floor  within,  fondling  her  doll,  arid 
studying  her  gayly-colored  picture-book. 

"I  little  girl  so  old."  Fauqua  counted  thirteen 
on  her  fingers.  "  White  schoolmother  come  beg 
father  I  go  school.  He  say  no ;  hate  white  man's 
road.  She  beg  more.  He  say  no,  no ;  ugh !  go 
way.  She  go.  Come  back  soon,  beg  heap  hard. 
He  smoke  long  time,  say  yes.  I  go.  White  school- 
mother  heap  kind.  I  happy.  Read  some,  cook 
some,  sew  good.  Hear  white  schoolmother  read 
Bible.  I  pray  white  Messiah." 


156  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

Fauqua  paused  a  moment,  meditating  on  the  past. 

"  Grass  grow  twice,"  continued  she.  "  I  love 
white  school  heap  much.  I  pray  I  stay  long  time ; 
till  hair  turn  white." 

Here  she  again  forgot  to  talk,  and  sat  with  eyes 
upon  the  ground,  in  silent  thought. 

"  Dear  little  girl !  I  know  how  beautiful  it  is," 
Piokee  softly  said,  as  if  the  years  were  swept  away, 
and  she  were  speaking  to  the  wistful  child  to  whom 
the  glimpse  of  the  new  life  meant  so  much. 

"  No  school  little  while  one  time,"  went  on  Fau- 
qua. "I  go  home  to  the  tepee.  See  Cold  Blast. 
He  say  I  worth  heap  ponies.  Father  say  he  trade. 
I  beg  no ;  lie  down  on  buffalo  skin,  cry  all  day ; 
cry  all  night.  White  schoolmother  hear,  come  beg 
father  I  go  back  school.  He  say  no,  no,  no !  She 
pray;  I  pray.  White  Messiah  have  no  ears.  Not 
help  poor  little  Fauqua. 

"I  marry  Cold  Blast;  try  hard  be  good  squaw. 
Try  hard  keep  on  in  white  man's  road.  No  use." 

"Oh!  you  poor,  poor  little  mother,"  cried  Piokee 
tearfully.  "  And  you  were  not  so  old  as  I  by  one 
year  when  your  father  sold  you — yes,  sold  you! 
And  my  father  bought  you !  But  it  was  because 
they  knew  no  better,"  struggling  to  draw  the  veil 
of  charity  across  the  shameful  barter.  "I  don't 
wonder  that  you  lost  all  heart  and  gave  up  trying, 
and  forgot  so  much  of  what  you  learned.  But  you 


NAOPOPE'S  FAME.  157 

shall  go  to  school  again.  We'll  have  a  little  class 
right  here  at  home,  and  I  will  teach  you  all  I  know. 
I  sha'n't  forget  one  crook  nor  turn  of  the  white 
man's  road,  you  may  be  sure  of  that,"  she  added 
pluckily. 

"  Cold  Blast  burn  books  Piokee  cry  hard  ?"  Fauqua 
asked  forebodingly. 

"  Oh  !  do  you  think  he  would  do  that  ?  "  returned 
Piokee,  looking  startled. 

"  Burn  books  white  schoolmother  give  me.  I 
hide  Bible.  Keep  all  time." 

"  So  you  loved  your  Bible  best  of  all  ?  I'm  glad 
of  that;  and  you  did  right  to  hide  it.  I  shall  hide 
mine,  too,  and  all  my  other  books,  if  there  appears 
to  be  the  slightest  danger  that  they  will  be  burned," 
Piokee  said  determinedly.  "  0,  dear !  I  can't  help 
wishing  the  command  had  been :  '  Children,  obey 
your  parents  —  when  you  can;  but  some  things 
you  must  do,  parents  or  no  parents.'  " 

And  the  gentle  daughter  and  the  meek  young 
wife  formed  a  double  resolution  that  the  civilizing 
process  should  go  on,  in  spite  of  all  the  master  of 
the  hut  could  do  to  hinder  it. 

"Now,"  said  Piokee,  starting  up  with  energy, 
"  we  are  to  clean  house  through  and  through  while 
father  is  away.  We've  several  blessings  to  be 
thankful  for,  with  all  our  straits.  I'm  glad  a  squaw- 
man  built  this  hut,  for  he  knew  how  to  make  a  roof 


158  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

that  doesn't  leak,  and  a  chimney  that  will  carry  off 
the  smoke  instead  of  puffing  it  into  our  faces,  though 
he  wasn't  wise  enough  to  keep  from  squandering 
the  hut  by  trading  it  to  father  for  two  ponies  — 
one  of  them  stone  blind.  And  an  Indian  never 
would  have  built  a  lean-to,  as  the  squaw-man  did, 
to  make  a  pigeon-hole  for  Nanno  and  myself  to 
sleep  in. 

"  First  of  all  we'll  carry  everything  outdoors  to 
air.  Of  course  you're  going  to  be  a  little  man  and 
help  us,  Up,"  she  cheerily  presumed,  as  the  small 
bushwhacker,  whose  incessant  raids  upon  the  inno- 
cent friskers  of  the  outdoor  world  kept  him  mostly 
out  of  sight,  deigned  to  tarry  for  a  moment  at  the 
door  with  the  inseparable  squirrel  club  in  hand. 
"  Here's  a  blanket  you  may  hang  upon  a  bush  and 
beat  and  beat  till  it  is  free  from  dust." 

Running  out  and  picking  up  a  stick  she  began 
the  work  herself,  to  show  Up  how  it  should  be  done. 

Up  stood  watching  her,  with  a  mysterious  mean- 
ing in  his  bead-like  eyes.  But  when  she  ceased  to 
wield  the  stick,  having  given  him  his  lesson,  she 
was  glad  to  see  him  fling  aside  the  squirrel  club,  as 
if  to  try  the  work  himself. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

TIP'S    FREAK   OF    INDUSTRY. 

TRIPPING  back  into  the  house,  lest  by  her  pres- 
ence she  embarrass  Up  in  the  performance  of 
his  novel  task,  Piokee  found  that  Fauqua  had  drawn 
out  into  the  middle  of  the  room  a  curious  trunk  of 
deerskin  stretched  upon  a  frame  of  wooden  hoops. 
She  was  down  upon  her  knees  beside  it  pulling  out 
the  contents,  mostly  Indian  finery  of  her  own  skilled 
handiwork. 

These  treasures,  which  were  rarely  brought  forth 
from  their  hiding-place,  delighted  even  solemn 
Nanno,  and  she  seized  Piokee's  hand  and  drew  her 
to  the  trunk. 

There  was  a  quantity  of  bead  embroidery,  nicely 
worked  on  buckskin,  or  on  flannel  of  the  gayest 
hues.  A  fancy  workbag,  several  pairs  of  moccasins, 
large  and  small,  a  splendid  shirt  with  scarlet  body 
and  the  yellowest  of  yellow  sleeves,  a  cunning 
match-safe,  a  tobacco  pouch  and  an  elaborate  pipe 

159 


160  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

case  were  among  the  beaded  articles  that  Fauqua 
proudly  held  up,  one  by  one,  before  Piokee's  dazzled 
eyes. 

The  marvel  of  the  many  treasures  was  exhibited 
last  of  all.  It  was  a  little  bonnet  of  the  finest, 
smoothest  buckskin,  dyed  a  veritable  baby-blue  and 
worked  with  tiny  stars  of  pink  and  blue  beads  on 
the  crown.  There  was  a  fluff  of  turkey  plumage, 
stripped  with  delicate  precision  from  the  quill  and 
fashioned  in  a  band  about  the  rim.  Jaunty  blue 
strings,  crossed  and  held  together  by  a  pink  star, 
gave  the  finishing  touch  to  this  bewitching  little 
dress  affair,  that  only  needed  a  demure  childish  face 
beneath  the  soft  brown  fluff  to  make  it  irresistible. 

"  What  a  dear  little  bonnet,"  said  Piokee.  "  It 
was  made  for  Nanno,  I  suppose,  and  how  cunning 
she  must  look  in  it." 

"  Cold  Blast  wear  it  next  full  moon.  Look  heap 
fine,"  said  Fauqua,  poising  it  upon  her  hand  and 
viewing  it  with  pride. 

"  What !  is  it  really  father's  ?  "  asked  Piokee  in 
amazement.  "  Why,  I  didn't  once  imagine  that !  " 

The  vision  of  her  big  grim  father  wearing  the 
coquettish  little  bonnet  was  too  much  for  even  seri- 
ous Piokee,  and  she  burst  into  a  merry  laugh,  the 
first  that  had  escaped  her  since  her  sorrowful  flight 
from  home. 

"  Injuns  have  big  show  dance.     Cold  Blast  dance 


UP'S    FREAK    OF   INDUSTRY.  161 

in  little  head-rig.  Feel  heap  proud,"  was  Fauqua's 
explanation. 

"  Oh  !  I've  heard  of  those  spectacular  dances," 
said  Piokee,  ceasing  now  to  wonder  why  this  inap- 
propriate attire.  "  The  men  put  on  a  load  of  finery 
and  parade  before  the  women  to  be  admired  and 
praised.  And  will  he  wear  the  beaded  shirt  and  all 
the  other  fixings  ?  "  going  off  into  another  peal  of 
laughter.  "  Do  forgive  me,"  growing  serious  as 
she  saw  that  Fauqua  looked  a  trifle  hurt.  "  It's  very 
rude  to  laugh,  but  I  have  never  seen  a  bonnet  on  a 
man,  and  it  must  look  so  funny." 

While  all  this  was  going  on  above  the  trunk  Up 
was  darting  back  and  forth,  dragging  out  of  doors 
blankets,  clothing  and  all  other  shakable  things  that 
he  could  seize  upon.  Piokee  watched  him  absently 
between  her  bursts  of  admiration  over  Fauqua's 
needlework,  vaguely  wondering  at  his  sudden  freak 
of  industry.  She  was  reminded  of  the  fact  that  Up 
was  carrying  on  the  airing  siege  alone  by  Nanno's 
pulling  at  her  skirts  to  draw  her  to  the  door. 

"  I  care,"  said  Nanno,  pointing  upward. 

On  the  topmost  branches  of  a  towering  tree  were 
hung  in  fluttering  array  the  things  that  Up  had 
taken  from  the  hut.  Among  them  was  Piokee' s 
only  gown,  except  the  one  she  wore,  her  cap  and 
ulster,  Mamma  Prairie's  shawl  and  Nanno's  hood 
and  cloak.  More  alarming  than  all  else,  Joan  of 


162  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

Arc,  the  cherished  doll,  was  swinging  wildly  in  the 
upper  air,  suspended  by  her  muslin  skirt. 

Up  had  disappeared,  likewise  his  squirrel  club. 

"  Why,  they  are  in  the  very  sky,"  exclaimed  Pio- 
kee,  "  and  no  one  but  Up  can  get  them  down.  He 
must  have  wrapped  them  round  his  back  to  climb 
the  tree  with  them.  The  sun  keeps  playing  hide- 
and-seek,  which  is  a  pretty  sure  sign  that  it's  going 
to  rain.  If  it  does  the  things  will  all  get  wet  and 
Oh !  dear  me,  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 

Fauqua  looked  discouraged,  thinking  like  Piokee, 
that  it  would  be  useless  to  depend  on  Up  to  bring 
down  that  which  he  had  hung  aloft. 

"  Well,  we'll  leave  them  up  there,  since  we  have 
to,"  said  Piokee,  "  while  we  carry  out  the  ashes 
from  the  fireplace  and  scrub  the  walls  and  floor 
and  wash  the  two  poor  little  windows.  Never  mind 
the  dolly,  Nanno,"  as  the  child  looked  up  distressedly 
to  where  the  darling  of  her  heart  seemed  struggling 
to  free  herself  from  the  entangling  bough.  "  She's 
indestructible,  like  Up  himself.  It  wouldn't  hurt 
Joan  of  Arc  to  get  completely  drenched." 

Fauqua  and  Piokee  now  began  the  work  of  clean- 
ing house,  Nanno  tugging  with  a  vim  to  help  dig 
out  the  ashes  that  had  long  been  gathering  in  the 
fireplace.  After  these  were  carried  out  and  dumped 
into  a  hollow  out  of  sight,  a  war  was  waged  against 
the  dust  and  dirt  on  walls  and  floor  and  windows. 


UP'S    FREAK    OF    INDUSTRY.  163 

Piokee  had  been  thankful  to  observe  on  coming 
to  the  hut,  that  Fauqua  had  an  old  broom,  and  a 
scant  supply  of  soap  laid  by  for  an  emergency,  and 
that  a  special  interest  in  soap  and  water  could  be 
easily  aroused  in  her. 

A  blazing  fire  was  kept  up  to  dry  the  hut,  and 
when  the  task  was  done  the  atmosphere  within  was 
greatly  changed. 

Last  of  all  Piokee  made  herself  and  Nanno  tidy, 
Fauqua  following  her  example  by  going  through  a 
thorough  bath  from  which  she  came  forth  with  a 
shining  skin. 

"Now  we  can't  do  another  thing,"  observed  Pio- 
kee as  she  combed  and  patted  down  the  bangs  she 
had  begun  to  train  on  Nanno's  forehead.  "We 
have  cleaned  the  hut,  but  Up  has  stripped  it  bare  of 
bedclothes,  and  the  bunks  will  have  to  stay  all  which- 
way,"  glancing  round  the  living  room  and  into  her 
denuded  pigeon-hole.  "  Dear  me,  I  do  believe  it's 
spitting  rain  this  very  minute  !  "  running  out  with 
nose  uplifted  to  again  inspect  the  weather. 

With  eyes  upon  the  clouds,  she  almost  ran  be- 
neath the  feet  of  Dr.  Whistler's  horse,  just  stopping 
at  the  door. 

Bending  down  the  rider  warmly  grasped  Piokee's 
two  hands  that  were  joyfully  upheld  in  double  wel- 
come ;  then  his  gaze  went  upward  to  the  tree-top. 

" '  Whither,  0  whither,  0  whither  so  high  ?  '  "  he 


164  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

asked  with  some  surprise  as  he  beheld  the  singular 
decoration. 

"  '  To  sweep  the  cobwebs  from  the '  —  hut.  'Twas 
Up,  of  course,"  replied  Piokee  ruefully.  (( We  were 
cleaning  house  and  I  persuaded  him  to  help.  While 
I  was  looking  over  mother's  treasures  in  the  trunk 
and  didn't  notice  him,  he  carried  all  those  things 
outdoors,  and  there  they  are.  He's  gone  off  squir- 
rel hunting,  and  dear  knows  how  we  shall  ever  get 
them  down.'* 

"  I  used  to  be  an  expert  at  climbing  when  I  was 
an  urchin,"  said  the  grave  straight  horseman,  mea- 
suring the  distance  to  the  tree-top  with  his  eye. 

"But  you  are  not  an  urchin  now,  and  I  can't 
imagine  Dr.  Whistler  shinning  up  a  tree,"  Piokee 
answered  laughingly. 

He  rode  beneath  the  tree,  and  rising  to  his  feet 
upon  the  saddle,  tried  to  reach  the  lower  limb.  It 
was  still  some  way  above  his  head,  but  with  a  spring 
he  bounded  up,  caught  hold  of  it  and  swung  himself 
into  the  tree.  The  well-trained  horse  stood  still 
and  waited  for  his  master. 

"Well  done,"  Piokee  said,  as  up  he  went  among 
the  branches,  nimbly  as  a  boy.  "  But,  after  all,  how 
will  you  get  the  things  ?  Up  has  hung  them  on  the 
very  outside,  and  those  slender  limbs  will  break  if 
you  creep  out  on  them." 

Whipping  out  his  pocket  knife  he  cut  and  trimmed 


TIP'S    FKEAK    OF    INDUSTRY.  165 

a  long  branch  with  a  bough  upon  one  end,  from 
which  he  made  a  two-pronged  fork.  Reaching  out 
with  this,  he  freed  Joan  of  Arc  and  tucked  her  care- 
fully inside  his  vest,  from  which  secure  resting  place 
she  cheerily  stretched  down  her  indestructible  arms 
to  Nanno,  looking  up  in  mute  appeal.  One  by  one 
the  other  things  were  lifted  from  the  boughs  and 
dropped  upon  the  ground,  then  Dr.  Whistler  dropped 
himself  upon  the  saddle  and  descended  to  Piokee's 
side. 

"  A  dozen  thanks,"  said  she,  when  all  the  things 
were  safely  housed.  "  For  your  trouble  you  shall 
have  some  squirrel  pot-pie  that  I  made  myself. 
Luckily  Up  didn't  hang  the  dinner  kettle  in  the 
sky.  It  has  been  simmering  above  the  fire  while 
we  have  been  at  work.  After  all,  it  isn't  going  to 
rain."  The  clouds  had  shifted  suddenly  and  left 
the  sky  quite  clear.  "  You  and  the  sunshine  came 
together.  It  is  beautiful  to  have  you  both  at  once," 
she  smiled  up  with  a  rush  of  gladness  that  the  deep 
blue  sky  was  over  her  as  ever  and  her  friend  was  by 
her  side  again. 

"  I  have  something  in  my  pocket  that  will  add 
more  sunshine,  I  suspect.  Can  you  guess  what  ?  " 
responded  he,  smiling  back  mysteriously. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   LOST   FOUND. 

there!"  cried  Mamma  Prairie,  drop- 
J-  ping  tears  of  solemn  joy  on  Dr.  Whistler's 
letter.  "  I  knew  I  couldn't  be  mistaken,  John.  We 
haven't  failed,  you  see.  But,  oh !  the  poor  little 
kidnaped  missionary.  If  she  could  have  told  us  all 
about  it,  and  let  us  pack  a  monstrous  box  with  just 
a  very  few  of  all  the  things  she'll  need  to  make 
her  half-way  comfortable  in  that  forlorn,  outlandish 
place,  we  would  have  given  her  up  —  I  think  —  yes, 
I  do  really  think  we  would  have  let  the  child  go 
with  our  blessing.  Don't  you,  John  ? " 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  John.  "  That  sly 
old  red  fox  of  a  father  calculated  very  shrewdly 
that  he'd  run  the  risk  of  never  getting  Dewdrop,  if 
he  didn't  steal  her  outright.  At  the  very  best  it 
is  a  terrible  experiment  for  one  so  tenderly  reared 
as  she  has  been." 

"  Yes,  'tis,"  said  Sally,  flying  round  and  round 

166 


THE   LOST   FOUND.  167 

the  room  with' a  mammoth  pumpkin  in  her  arms. 
"  'Nough  ter  kill  her  out'n'  out — yes,  'tis.  Sha'n't 
I  make  'em  tol'able  stiff,  Mis'  Bowers?  Punkin 
pies  can't  stan'  much  jouncin',  an'  the  Injun  roads 
is  mighty  rough,  so  Ebenezer  says." 

"  Yes ;  they're  full  o'  teeter  holes  an'  thank-ye- 
marms,  so  I've  heered  Jacob  say,"  vouched  Eben- 
ezer from  the  doorway,  where  he  stood  rejoicing 
with  the  others  that  the  lost  was  found.  "  The  reds 
don't  git  no  poll-tax  served  on  to  'em,  like  the 
whites;  an'  ev'ry  blasted  teeter  hole  mought  sink 
cl'ar  through  ter  Chiny  afore  they'd  go  ter  work  ter 
fill  'em  up.  An'  that  jes  fetches  Jacob.  Him  and 
the  poll-tax  hed  a  fallin'  out  when  he  was  twenty- 
one,  an'  they  hain't  ben  on  speakin'  terms,  ye 
mought  say,  ever  sense.  They  like  ter  keep  as  fur 
apart  as  possible,  an'  I  reckon  that's  one  reason 
Jacob  turned  into  a  squaw-man.  Punkin  pies  an' 
thank-ye-marms  ain't  dyin'  ter  scrape  acquaintance, 
neither." 

"  Pumpkin  pies !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Abigail  —  John 
had  brought  her  over  on  his  way  from  town  with  Dr. 
Whistler's  letter  —  "why  not  storm  the  reservation 
with  a  wagon-train  of  pumpkin  pies,  followed  by 
another  loaded  with  ambrosia  and  angel-food  ?  The 
whole  greedy  tribe  would  fall  upon  them  like  a 
swarm  of  locusts,  and  Dewdrop  wouldn't  get  the 
vestige  of  a  bite." 


168  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  True,  we  can't  begin  with  pumpkin  pies ;  but 
we  must  do  something  in  the  greatest  hurry," 
Prairie  said.  "  Dear  me  !  I'm  growing  sorry  for 
the  Government,  as  much  as  I  have  blamed  it  for 
mismanaging  the  Indians.  It  doesn't  try  to  feed 
them  on  ambrosia  and  angel-food,  but  think  what 
agony  it  must  endure  to  know  that  all  those  hordes 
of  hungry  mortals  have  consumed  their  rations  in  a 
twinkling,  and  are  opening  their  mouths  appealingly 
for  more,  so  long  before  the  time  for  them  to  have  it." 

"  Pike's  Peak  might  be  piled  up  on  Mt.  Washing- 
ton, with  Mt.  Ararat  to  cap  the  climax,  and  they 
wouldn't  loom  up  like  this  Indian  difficulty.  And 
that  child  is  trying  to  scale  it  with  her  poor  weak 
feet,"  declared  Aunt  Abigail,  snatching  off  her  tear- 
dimmed  spectacles  to  wipe  them  flurriedly. 

"  The  step-mother  is  the  soul  of  amiability,  and 
does  the  best  she  can  by  Dewdrop,  Dr.  Whistler 
writes,"  said  Prairie,  thankful  for  this  grain  of  com- 
fort in  the  letter.  "  And  the  eight-year-old  half- 
sister,  Nanno,  is  a  promising  little  creature,  though 
supernaturally  still  and  solemn.  He  doesn't  say  the 
same  of  Up-a-tree,  the  little  warrior  of  ten  years, 
who  was  out  all  night  to  watch  the  ghost  dance,  and 
fell  asleep  on  the  ground  and  crept  into  the  tent  at 
daybreak,  thinly  clad  and  drenched  with  rain." 

"  Up-a-tree !  "  went  off  Aunt  Abigail  again. 
"  That  boy  must  have  another  name  as  soon  as  we 


THE    LOST    FOUND.  169 

can  send  it  through  the  mail ;  and  I'll  make  haste 
to  get  him  into  decent  clothes,  though  I  might  as 
well  expect  to  fit  a  jumping-jack  I've  never  seen, 
for  all  I  know  about  his  measure.  Ghost  dancing, 
too,  right  on  the  edge  of  Christendom  !  'Twould  be 
no  wonder  if  the  earth  should  jump  a  cog,  and  fly 
off  into  space  to  shake  off  such  abominations.  Let 
me  see  —  what  shall  we  name  that  little  savage?" 
And  she  fell  into  a  musing  mood. 

"  Cecil  St.  James  ? "  suggested  Sally.  "  That's 
the  hero  of  the  book  Mis'  Biddle's  readin'." 

"  Cecil  Stick-of-candy  ! "  scorned  Aunt  Abigail. 
"  The  boy  must  have  a  good  substantial  name  that 
he  won't  be  ashamed  of  if  he  ever  rises  in  the  world." 

"  You  might  name  him  for  a  Puritan  Father ;  " 
this  from  John.  "  Cotton  Mather  would  be  a  vast 
improvement  on  Up-a-tree." 

"Your  father's  name  will  do,  Prairie.  We  will 
call  him  Adoniram,"  she  decided. 

"  But  there  isn't  any  last  name  but  the  father's. 
Adoniram  Cold  Blast  sounds  incongruous,"  -said 
Prairie. 

"  To  be  sure  —  a  savage  must  be  ripped  up,  seam 
and  gusset,  and  made  over  stitch  by  stitch,"  Aunt 
Abigail  replied.  "  Well,  he  can  take  the  whole 
name  of  the  saintly  missionary — Adoniram  Judson 
—  though  it  goes  without  saying  that  he  will  dis- 
grace it  from  the  start.  That  little  Nancy  can  be  a 


170  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

Judson,  too.  Adoniram  and  Nancy  Judson  sounds 
respectable,  whatever  there  is  back  of  it  in  the  way 
of  degenerate  flesh  and  blood.  I  suppose  'twill  be 
no  use  to  try  to  change  the  parents'  names.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Cold  Blast  will  be  written  on  their  epi- 
taphs as  a  memorial  of  what  America  has  done  to 
civilize  the  aborigines." 

Miriam,  who  had  slipped  away  soon  after  Dr. 
Whistler's  letter  had  been  read  aloud,  now  came 
back  tugging  two  large  satchels,  which  she  dropped 
in  eager  haste. 

"  One  is  for  my  Dewdwop,  and  one  is  for  her 
Nanno.  Can't  Ebenezer  start  wight  off?"  she  said, 
with  glowing  cheeks  and  excited  eyes. 

"  Why,  bless  the  child  !  she's  plunged  right  into 
doing  something,  while  we've  stopped  to  talk  it 
over,"  Prairie  said ;  and  she  began  examining  the 
satchels. 

Uppermost  in  Nanno' s  was  a  crippled  elephant,  the 
joy  of  Miriam's  heart.  He  was  lying  on  his  back, 
his  trunk  and  three  sound  legs  thrust  upward 
through  the  satchel's  gaping  mouth.  Beside  the 
elephant  was  a  wax  doll,  and  a  dainty  hood  of  snowy 
eiderdown  Aunt  Rose  had  brought  to  Miriam  on  her 
recent  visit  to  the  ranch.  She  had  gone  back  to 
Uncle  Kearn  the  week  before.  Below  were  more 
of  Miriam's  choicest  playthings,  several  picture 
books,  a  box  half-full  of  candy,  and  some  white 


THE   LOST   FOUND.  171 

embroidered  frocks  and  lace-trimmed  aprons  that 
Piokee  wore  at  Nanno's  age. 

In  Piokee's  was  the  wooden  wedding  gown  much 
crushed  and  tumbled  by  the  eager  little  hands,  the 
pretty  slippers  and  the  silver  jewelry,  a  cluster  of 
perfumery  sachets,  a  pink  silk  cushion  and  a  pict- 
ure scarf,  with  Aunt  Sweetbrier's  namesake  flower 
painted  by  her  own  artistic  hands  across  the  pale- 
blue  border. 

Two  photographs  came  last  of  all ;  Mamma  Prai- 
rie, John  and  Miriam  grouped  in  one,  and  in  the 
other  much-embarrassed  Ebenezer,  with  Sally  dodg- 
ing from  his  side,  but  taken  on  the  flying  leap 
before  she  quite  escaped  the  camera's  range. 

"  Do  you  fink  'at's  what  'ey'll  need  most  ?  I 
can't  'member  if  I've  fought  of  ev'wyfing,"  said 
Miriam  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  darling ;  some  of  them,  but  not  quite  all," 
said  Prairie,  folding  up  the  yellow  gown  with  tender 
hands.  The  pretty  girlish  things  could  be  of  no 
more  use  to  Dewdrop  now,  she  thought,  and  Nanno 
could  not  wear  the  dainty  garments  that  belong  to 
childhood.  "  My  Miriam  must  wait  a  few  days  ;  " 
and  she  kissed  the  disappointed  little  face.  "  We'll 
send  a  box  brimful  of  things  as  soon  as  Dewdrop 
leaves  the  woods  where  she  is  helping  gather  nuts." 

"  Going  nutting  is  des  lovely.  Don't  you  fink  so, 
mamma  ?  "  Miriam  asked,  with  questioning  eyes. 


172  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  When  the  woods  are  full  of  sunshine,  yes,  dear," 
was  the  answer. 

"  Well,  I  fink  'ey'll  be  most  always  full  of  sun- 
shine 'cause  my  Dewdwop's  in  'em,"  reasoned  Mir- 
iam. "  When  we  send  a  box  bwimful  of  fings  and 
she  isn't  in  'e  woods,  where  will  she  be  ?  " 

"At  home,  love,  in  her  father's  —  house." 

"  Dr.  Whistler  didn't  say  a  house,  he  said  a  hut," 
reflecting  on  the  letter.  "  What  is  a  hut  ?  "  persisted 
Miriam. 

"  A  tiny  place  to  live  in  —  sometimes  very  snug 
and  warm,"  said  Prairie,  summoning  courage  to 
endure  the  cross-examination. 

"  Are  vere  beds  and  chairs  and  tables,  and  most 
ev'wyfing  in  Mr.  Cold  Blast's  hut?" 

"  No,"  broke  in  Aunt  Abigail ;  "  those  blanket 
Indians  sleep  in  bunks,  and  squat  like  toads  and 
Turks  upon  the  ground,  or  floor  —  if  they  are  rich 
enough  to  have  a  floor  —  and  eat  their  victuals  with 
their  fingers.  Yet  the  world  predicts  that  the  mil- 
lennium day  is  not  far  off,  and  America  is  putting 
on  some  airs  because  she  thinks  she's  nearer  ready 
for  it  than  the  other  nations." 


CHAPTER   XX. 

LETTERS. 

ETTERSl"  cried  Piokee,  as  Dr.  Whistler 
J-J  handed  her  two  missives  in  their  square 
white  envelopes,  both  so  entrancingly  plump,  they 
had  required  extra  postage.  "  Letters  from  the 
lovely  other  world.  Mamma  Prairie  and  Floy  Wins- 
low,"  she  decided,  lingering  over  the  addresses  in  a 
maze  of  joy.  "  I  must  have  a  pin  to  tear  them  open 
very  nicely  at  one  end.  They  are  so  precious  that 
I  wouldn't  even  spoil  a  scrap  of  the  outside."  And 
she  took  a  little  pinwheel  from  her  pocket,  slowly 
picking  out  the  tiny  paper  cutter. 

Dr.  Whistler  did  not  mar  the  bliss  of  her  antici- 
pation by  offering  to  assist  her  with  his  penknife, 
but  robbing  Fauqua  of  the  pail  with  which  she  was 
just  starting  for  the  spring,  and  taking  Nanno  by 
the  hand,  he  left  Piokee  to  herself  and  went  to 
fetch  the  water.  The  mother  watched  him  from 
the  path  in  still  surprise,  so  unused  was  she  to  see- 

173 


174  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

ing  men  so  far  forget  their  lordly  station  as  to  wait 
on  women. 

Piokee  read  the  letters  through  and  through  — 
Mamma  Prairie's,  Floy's,  then  both  again  —  sitting 
on  the  stump  outside  the  hut,  basking  in  the  spring- 
like sunshine.  Dr.  Whistler  brought  the  water,  and 
seeing  her  too  happily  absorbed  to  notice  him, 
went  back  to  build  a  mimic  dam  for  Nanno,  across 
the  brooklet  running  from  the  stream.  Fauqua 
glided  in  and  out,  waiting  till  Piokee  dropped  the 
letters  in  her  lap  and  clasped  her  hands  above  them, 
with  a  dreamy  sigh. 

"White  mother  not  scold  ?  Call  old  Injuns  sneak 
thieves  ?  Say  Piokee  come  back  ? "  she  asked,  in 
wonder  that  she  read  no  signs  of  agitation  on 
Piokee's  face. 

"  No,  indeed ;  she  doesn't  scold  one  bit.  She 
says  I  am  her  own  dear  girlie  just  the  same,  though 
she  will  have  to  lend  me  to  my  people.  And  she 
sends  her  love  to  you,  and  says  she  is  so  thankful  to 
the  very  bottom  of  her  heart  that  you're  so  good  to 
me.  Dr.  Whistler  wrote  her  that." 

"  White  mother  talk  good.  Not  hate  Injun 
thieves?  Injun  hate  white  thieves,"  marveled  Fau- 
qua at  the  foster-mother's  loving  kindness,  which 
she  did  not  know  was  less  remarkable  than  her  own 
meek  patience  under  heavy  burdens. 

Dr.  Whistler,  walking  up  the  path  with  Nanno 


LETTERS.  177 

some  time  after,  found  Piokee  still  there  on  the  rus- 
tic seat,  dwelling  happily  on  Mamma  Prairie's  words 
of  tender  cheer  and  Floy's  delightful  chatter. 

"  0,  my  chief  !  "  exclaimed  she,  as  he  stopped  be- 
fore her,  "  is  there  anything  in  the  whole  world 
quite  like  a  real  true  love  letter,  that  is  all  one's 
own  from  first  to  last  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  have  never  had  one,"  he 
responded,  with  a  lonesome  smile. 

"Haven't  you?  0,  poor  Doctor!"  pityingly; 
"  your  mother  never  learned  to  write,  so  she  couldn't 
send  you  one.  And  she  didn't  live  till  you  had  gone 
through  college.  But  you've  had  my  letters  ever 
since  I  first  began  to  print,  when  I  was  six  years  old." 

"  But  they  were  hardly  of  the  kind  you  mention," 
was  his  grave  complaint.  "  You  were  always  telling 
rne  how  fond  you  were  of  Mamma  Prairie,  Miriam 
and  the  other  friends  —  I  think  you  even  mentioned 
Ebenezer  —  but  not  a  word  about  myself." 

"  Why,  that  is  very  strange.  I  suppose  it  was 
because  I  thought  you  knew  it  all  the  time.  I  can't 
remember  when  I  first  began  to  love  my  chief,"  she 
mused,  looking  up  to  him  with  reverent  eyes.  "  I 
think  it  must  have  been  when  I  was  riding  on  his 
back  to  Mamma  Prairie's  cabin." 

"  Well,  I  ought  to  be  quite  satisfied  with  that, 
since 'I  come  before  even  Mamma  Prairie,"  with  a 
brightening  of  his  careworn  face.  "  I  well  remem- 


178  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

ber  what  a  curious  interest  stirred  my  barbarous 
young  nature  for  the  tender  little  creature  so  com- 
pletely at  my  mercy  during  that  momentous  ride. 
Perhaps  you  would  have  been  as  happy  now  had 
you  never  taken  it,  since  you  are  called  back  to  the 
life  I  snatched  you  from  just  for  a  few  brief  years," 
lapsing  into  sudden  gloom,  as  he  thought  of  Piokee's 
change  of  fortune.  "I  suppose  you  would  have 
grown  up  somehow  with  the  tribe,  not  knowing  and 
not  caring,  like  the  rest." 

"  0,  no,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Piokee,  with  a  shudder. 
"  I  would  rather  know  and  care ;  whatever  happens, 
nothing  now  can  rob  me  of  those  beautiful  years 
in  the  lovely  other  world.  But  I  am  not  so  very 
wretched  here,"  she  said,  her  face  aglow  with  cour- 
age. "  I've  neither  starved  nor  frozen,  even  in  the 
pecan  camp,  where  I  thought  it  would  be  simply 
horrible.  The  hut  is  dismal,  and  quite  bare  of 
everything  we  need,  but  there's  the  bright  outdoors 
in  sunny  weather.  Winter  in  the  Territory  is  so 
warm  and  lovely,  for  the  most  part,  that  I'm  very 
thankful  I  am  not  a  Northern  Indian  girl. 

"And  then  —  it  seems  too  good  to  think  of  — 
Mamma  Prairie  and  Aunt  Abigail  are  to  send  a  box 
of  all  the  dear  old  usable  things  I  left  behind,  with 
lots  of  new  ones  such  as  I  shall  need  here,  and  some 
brand-new  clothes  for  Up.  Oh  !  isn't  it  too  furiny  ?" 
with  a  mirthful  laugh ;  "  Aunt  Abigail  wants  to  name 


LETTERS.  179 

Up,  Adoniram  Judson.  Think  of  Up,  with  all  his 
antics,  capering  under  such  a  name  as  that." 

"  It  would  be  well  to  lay  it  by  for  future  use," 
smiled  Dr.  Whistler.  "  The  brisk,  obstreperous  lit- 
tle name  that  suits  him  to  a  dot  just  now,  will 
hardly  do  when  he  becomes  the  staid  young  man 
you  hope  to  make  of  him.  When  I  entered  school  I 
placed  prosaic  James  before  happy-go-lucky  Whist- 
ler, the  name  I  won  when  very  young,  from  my 
ability  to  imitate  a  quail.  Happily,  my  boyish  name 
was  not  too  barbarous  to  carry  into  civilized  life,  so 
Whistler  I  shall  always  be." 

"  But  only  think  how  brave  and  noble  Up  would 
have  to  be  to  make  the  name  of  Adoniram  Judson 
suitable,"  Piokee  said.  "I  know  about  the  great 
grand  missionary  who  first  owned  it.  If  they  are 
too  good  or  too  bad,  names  are  simply  a  misfor- 
tune," was  her  train  of  thought.  "  Now  there  is 
Wak-wak  Six-killer,  one  of  my  girls  over  in  the  vil- 
lage —  she's  as  harmless  as  a  kitten,  but  how  fright- 
fully ferocious  one  would  fancy  she  must  be,  with 
such  a  name." 

"  Have  you  some  girls  over  in  the  village  ?  "  Dr. 
Whistler  asked  incredulously. 

"  Yes ;  I  met  them  at  the  pecan  camp.  They 
pelted  me  with  nuts  at  first,  but  they  didn't  keep 
on  very  long.  Wak-wak  led  the  way  in  offering  a 
beautiful  apology.  I've  found  out  that  they  care  if 


180  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

they  don't  know,  and  it  makes  me  happier  than  I 
can  tell  you." 

"If  they  do  care  they  have  taken  pains  that  I 
shall  not  suspect  it,"  he  observed.  "  I'm  very  well 
acquainted  with  those  girls.  Some  of  them  have 
been  my  patients  when  the  reservation  has  been 
swept  with  fever.  I  have  tried  for  some  time  to 
awake  in  them  a  wish  to  learn  the  civilized  way, 
but  they  belong  to  families  that  have  seemed  op- 
posed to  schools.  How  did  you  discover  that  the 
girls  have  any  interest  in  that  direction,  little  riddle 
solver?" 

"  Oh !  a  secret,"  she  replied,  with  a  mysterious 
little  laugh.  "'There  are  books  in  the  running 
brooks,'  and  wishes  in  the  eyes  of  shy  wild  Indian 
girls,  if  one  knows  how  to  read  them.  And  I've 
found  out  another  thing  you  don't  suspect  —  that 
Nao  hasn't  really  the  bad  heart,  as  you  believe  he 
has,"  she  added,  bracing  up  to  meet  the  sternness 
these  last  words  evoked. 

"  If  you  wish  to  please  me  you  will  never  speak 
of  that  young  scamp  again.  He  has  disgraced  him- 
self and  me  beyond  endurance,  and  I'll  have  no 
more  of  him,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  in  a  quick  decisive 
tone. 

"  But  you  must  let  me  speak,"  pleaded  Piokee 
earnestly.  "  0,  dear !  "  she  sighed,  "  now  you  are 
Dr.  Whistler  with  a  vengeance,  and  you  are  so 


LETTERS.  181 

•dreadfully  civilized  that  you've  forgotten  all  about 
the  Black  Hawk  Indian,  and  the  dose  of  brotherly 
love." 

"  The  Black  Hawk  Indian,  however  great  a  rogue 
he  otherwise  would  be,  has  to  stand  back  and  keep 
quiet.  If  he  didn't  I  would  throttle  him,"  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  with  such  fierce  determination  that  Piokee 
thought  it  well  for  Nao  that  he  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  offended  guardian  just  then.  "I  have 
a  world  of  charity  for  the  ignorant  savage,  dark  as 
is  his  record,"  he  went  on,  "but  it  is  mischief  of 
the  most  enlightened  kind  which  that  boy  is  guilty 
of,  and  it  is  working  greater  injury  than  you  can 
imagine  to  the  cause  which  I  am  struggling  to  up- 
hold. Yesterday  I  tried  to  offer  some  advice  to 
several  young  men  who  were  becoming  much  ex- 
cited talking  of  the  ghost  dance  at  the  Agency,  but 
they  interrupted  me  with  jeers  and  laughter.  One 
exclaimed : 

" l  Call  back  the  young  runner  who  is  carrying 
Messiah  news  to  other  tribes,  and  talk  to  him  before 
you  talk  to  us.' 

"  Said  another :  ( If  the  white  man's  road  is  good, 
why  does  your  brother  leave  it  for  the  Indian's 
path  ?  He  has  had  a  chance  to  find  out  which 
is  best.' 

" '  Yes,'  observed  a  third ;  e  send  the  Light  Horse 
after  him,  if  it  is  treason  for  the  Indian  to  dance 


182  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

the  ghost  dance.  The  civilized  medicine  man  must 
have  a  stronger  tongue  than  that  he  speaks  with 
now,  to  talk  us  into  doing  what  he  cannot  make  his 
brother  do.' " 

"  Oh  !  I'm  sure  he  doesn't  dream  of  all  the  harm 
he  is  doing,"  said  Piokee,  much  appalled  by  the  ex- 
tent of  Nao's  mischief.  "It  is  only  that  he's  tired 
of  school  and  wants  a  change,  so  he's  gone  off  on  a 
little  ghost-dance  lark." 

"  Well,  he'll  find  his  little  ghost-dance  lark,  as 
you  call  it,  very  serious  in  its  results,"  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  pacing  with  impatient  steps.  "You  can 
not  comprehend  his  grave  offense,  my  child,"  he 
added,  stopping  short  and  struggling  to  calm  himself. 

"  You  have  heard  that  my  mother  married  Nao's 
father,  and  was  taken  from  her  house  in  Kansas, 
where  she  had  begun  to  live  in  something  of  a  civ- 
ilized way,  back  to  the  tepee  and  blanket  on  this 
reservation ;  that  both  parents  died  in  one  week  of 
an  epidemic,  and  Nao,  at  the  age  of  eight,  fell  into 
my  hands. 

"  Ever  since,  I  have  been  striving  to  blot  out  the 
impress  of  his  father's  influence  left  upon  him  as  a 
young  child.  As  he  is  naturally  quick  to  learn,  a 
passable  amount  of  knowledge  has  been  drilled  into 
his  head,  while  at  heart  he  has  remained  a  young 
barbarian.  If  Nao  as  a  schoolboy  cannot  be  relied 
upon  in  this  emergency  to  stand  fast  to  the  princi- 


LETTEKS.  183 

pies  he  should  have  learned  by  this  time  to  respect, 
there  is  nothing  to  him,  and  from  now  on  I  am  quits 
with  him." 

"  But  you  surely  will  forgive  him  if  he  comes 
back  sorry,"  said  Piokee,  startled  by  the  look  on 
Dr.  Whistler's  face. 

"  I  think  not,  deluded  little  pleader,  if  to  forgive 
him  means  to  trust  him,"  Dr.  Whistler  answered, 
looking  firmly  down  at  her. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE    SURPRISING   LOAD. 

"  npHINK  of  me,"  so  ran  a  clipping  of  Floy's 
-*-  letter,  "  as  the  mother  of  the  mother  of 
three  hundred  chicks.  The  grandmother,  I  suppose 
I  may  be  called.  The  mother  is  a  wooden-headed, 
heartless  thing,  without  a  spark  of  feeling  for  her 
pretty  dears.  Indeed,  she'd  be  a  perfect  iceberg  if 
we  didn't  keep  her  lined  with  fuzz  and  warm  her 
with  a  kerosene  lamp.  She  has  no  taste  for  insects, 
and  the  chicks  were  likely  to  grow  up  without  the 
slightest  training  as  to  grubworms,  but  Bub  Merrill, 
with  his  usual  mania  for  experiments,  fed  them  ver- 
micelli for  an  object  lesson  in  zoology,  and  crammed 
them  with  an  overdose  of  sham.  This  caused  an 
epidemic  of  the  gapes,  which  gave  the  grandmother 
no  end  of  work  and  worry,  and  cut  off  the  lives  of 
twenty  of  the  pretty  babies. 

"  Ellery  is  still  studying  the  broken  treaties.     If 
his  eyes  are  spared,  I  think  he'll  finish  all  of  them 

184 


THE    SUKPKISING   LOAD.  185 

by  spring.  Like  the  rest  of  us,  he's  mourning -for 
Bright  Alfarata.  He  has  begged  Priscilla's  jewel- 
box,  turning  out  her  string  of  gold  beads  and  her 
amethyst  ring  to  make  room  for  the  buttonhole 
bouquet  of  feathers  he's  preserving  as  a  choice  me- 
mento of  the  wild  young  squaw  —  who  has  turned 
out  to  be  the  bravest  of  the  brave  young  mission- 
aries. Dewdrop  dear,  how  could  you  have  the  cour- 
age —  but  I  made  Priscilla  promise  not  to  let  me 
write  one  dismal  sentence  in  this  letter ;  if  I  do  she 
is  to  tear  it  into  shreds  ;  so  as  that  is  only  half  a  dis- 
mal sentence,  I  shall  hop-skip  right  away  from  it 
and  tell  you  you  are  soon  to  get  acquainted  with 
Miss  Harriet,  the  daughter  of  the  agent  of  your 
reservation,  who,  we've  very  lately  found  out,  is  a 
lifelong  friend  of  papa's.  He  surprised  us  with  a 
call  while  on  his  way  home  from  a  short  trip  North 
a  day  or  two  ago.  Miss  Harriet  and  Priscilla  were 
at  school  together  in  the  East,  though  they  were 
never  very  well  acquainted,  as  they  were  in  differ- 
ent classes.  Pris  remembers  that  Miss  Harriet  is 
just  lovely,  and  so  strong  and  independent  —  a  reg- 
ular champion  of  the  Indian  cause,  her  father  says. 
"  Pris  talked  of  her  pet  violinist,  Ellery  of  Bright 
Alfarata,  and  I  of  my  dearest  chum,  till  it  is  safe  to 
say  your  agent  won't  forget  to  rouse  an  interest  in 
Miss  Harriet  for  the  lonesome  little  missionary  some- 
where on  the  reservation. 


186  PIOKEE    AND    HEK    PEOPLE. 

"Your  agent  speaks  in  highest  terms  of  Dr. 
Whistler.  He  says  he's  built  a  nice  frame  house 
close  by  a  squallid  village,  when  he  might  have 
built  it  at  the  Agency  and  had  congenial  neighbors, 
just  to  let  the  blanket  Indians  see  he  doesn't  mean 
to  shun  them  if  he  is  so  civilized.  He  wants  to 
show  them  that  a  man  may  be  an  Indian  —  forgive 
me,  dear ;  I  keep  forgetting  you  are  one  —  and  a 
bachelor  at  that,  and  live  in  tip-top  shape,  and  yet 
be  on  the  best  of  terms  with  those  who  don't. 

"  I'm  telling  you  all  this  because  I  don't  believe 
you'll  ever  hear  it  from  that  modest  chief  of  yours 
himself.  He's  always  planning  ways,  the  agent  says, 
for  stirring  up  the  shiftless  men  and  boys,  and  setting 
them  to  work.  He  keeps  a  lot  of  axes  right  at  hand, 
and  hires  as  many  of  the  young  men  as  he  can  to  chop 
wood  for  his  sawmill  near  the  village.  After  pay- 
ing them  fair  wages,  he  divides  the  profits  of  the 
business  with  the  workers. 

"  Lemuel,  the  colored  man  who  manages  the  farm 
for  Dr.  Whistler,  runs  a  monstrous  onion  patch  es- 
pecially to  hire  the  boys  to  bend  their  backs  in  solid 
work  pulling  weeds.  At  harvest  time,  the  young- 
sters who  have  been  decoyed  into  the  patch  as  labor- 
ers, besides  what  they  have  earned  pulling  weeds, 
have  a  generous  share  of  onions  that  they're  proud 
to  carry  to  the  Agency  to  sell. 

"And  isn't  it  just  splendid  that  you  have  this 


THE    SURPRISING   LOAD.  187 

grand  good  friend  so  near  to  help  you  in  the  task 
you've  dared  to  set  about  yourself  ? 

"  You  may  expect  a  good-sized  budget  from  Pris- 
cilla  in  a  few  days,  with  perhaps  a  fly-leaf  on  the 
nobleness  of  missionary  work  among  the  Indians 
from  Ellery's  sympathetic  pen." 

Piokee,  sitting  on  the  stump,  was  reading  Floy's 
letter  for  about  the  twentieth  time,  when  Cold  Blast 
came  in  sight,  the  tipsy  cart  weighed  down  with  a 
surprising  load.  This  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon,  the  next  day  after  his  departure  with 
the  nuts. 

"  0,  mother  !  do  look,  quick,"  she  cried  to  Fau- 
qua,  who  was  on  the  doorsill  stringing  beads.  "  A 
brand-new  cook  stove  and  some  new  chairs  and  a 
table,  as  I  live  and  breathe  !  Only  think  —  a  table  ! 
Why,  I  didn't  dare  to  say  one  word  about  that,  and 
I  thought  we  should  have  to  keep  on  eating  in  our 
laps  forever  and  ever." 

"Urn!"  said  Cold  Blast,  drawing  up  before  the 
hut  in  proud  array,  and  clambering  down  to  view 
the  load. 

Great  was  Piokee's  rapture  at  these  civilized  be- 
longings which  her  father  had  achieved  with  one 
big  swoop;  but  presently  she  found  there  was  a 
curious  motive  for  the  reckless  outlay,  other  than 
to  travel  in  the  white  man's  road. 

"  Sam  Sixkiller  buy  new  fire  box,  brag  loud,  call 


188  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

me  poor  Injun,"  he  explained.  "  I  get  heap  mad, 
brag  I  buy  it  too.  He  brag  he  buy  big  board  on 
legs,  I  get  heap  madder,  brag  I  buy  it  too.  I  brag 
I  buy  high  seats,  he  brag  he  buy  urn  too.  I  brag  I 
buy  heap  chuck,  he  brag  he  buy  heap  chuck.  I  say 
he  stop  now,  get  big  lickin'." 

"0,  father!  but  you  didn't  fight  him,  did  you?" 
said  Piokee  in  alarm. 

"He  stop,"  was  Cold  Blast's  terse  reply. 

"Well,  at  any  rate,  I'm  glad  for  the  Sixkillers 
and  ourselves  that  all  these  things  are  bought,  and 
I'm  so  thankful  you  two  fathers  didn't  come  to 
blows  trying  to  outshine  each  other,"  she  concluded, 
reaching  up  to  grasp  a  chair  that  Fauqua  handed 
from  the  cart. 

Cold  Blast  did  not  stir  himself  to  help  unload  the 
things  till  they  were  all  upon  the  ground  —  except 
the  stove  wdth  its  utensils  shut  up  in  the  oven. 
Then  pulling  out  a  peg  he  recklessly  upset  the  cart 
and  sent  the  stove  with  clattering  tins  and  irons 
sliding  to  the  ground.  He  caught  it  on  the  fly, 
with  giant  strength,  however,  and  thus  saved  the 
threatened  smashup.  Fauqua,  who  was  used  to  this 
bewildering  inversion  of  the  cart,  without  an  in- 
stant's warning,  saved  herself  by  clinging  to  the 
dashboard. 

"  What  a  splendid  cooking  outfit !  pots  and  pans 
and  griddles  and  —  my  stars  —  a  waffle  iron  !  "  said 


THE    SUEPKIS1NG    LOAD.  189 

Piokee,  more  and  more  astounded  at  the  length  the 
rivalry  had  run.  "  Everything  we  need  to  eat,  and 
more,  too,"  really  startled  at  the  lot  of  canned  pro- 
visions which  the  keeper  of  the  mixed  store  where 
the  purchases  were  made  had  urged  his  customer  to 
buy  to  swell  the  profits  of  the  sale.  "But  you 
couldn't  get  all  this  for  what  the  nuts  brought,  and 
I  can't  imagine  how  you  paid  for  everything,"  she 
wondered. 

"  Pay  some.  Draw  headlight  money  few  moons, 
pay  rest,"  he  answered. 

"  Oh  !  I'm  sorry  you  have  run  in  debt,"  said  she, 
a  cold  wave  sweeping  over  her  enthusiasm.  "  Mrs. 
Biddle  bought  her  furniture  that  way,  and  she  said 
she  thought  'twould  kill  her  off  by  inches,  she  had 
to  squeeze  the  pennies  so  to  save  enough  to  pay  the 
dues.  But  then,  she  hadn't  any  headright  money 
to  depend  on,  and  that  never  fails,"  bethought  Pio- 
kee, and  she  drew  an  easier  breath.  "  It  seems  so 
perfectly  delightful  to  be  handling  a  piece  of  furni- 
ture," she  added,  helping  Fauqua  set  the  table  back 
against  the  wall.  "  But  I'm  afraid  Sam  Sixkiller 
will  be  our  enemy  now,  and  won't  let  Wak-wak 
come  to  school." 

"  Piokee  not  have  school,"  said  Cold  Blast,  squat- 
ting in  the  door  in  glum  displeasure.  "  Messiah 
come,  get  heap  mad.  I  swapee  pony,  get  big  boot. 
Buy  new  war-gun." 


190  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

Chipmunk,  who  was  like  a  human  friend  to  his 
devoted  little  mistress,  save  that  he  had  not  the  gift 
of  speech,  was  always  kept  so  near  the  hut  that  she 
could  see  him  from  the  door  and  hear  his  gentle 
whinny,  which  she  answered  now  and  then  by  run- 
ning out  to  greet  him  with  a  loving  word  and  pat. 
The  pony  had  regained  his  shiny  coat,  for  Dr. 
Whistler  had  supplied  the  longed-for  curry-comb 
and  brush,  having  given  those  he  carried  in  his  left- 
hand  saddle-bag  to  Piokee  at  the  pecan  camp. 

Cold  Blast  eyed  the  handsome  little  creature 
grazing  near  the  door,  but  for  Piokee's  peace  of 
mind  she  did  not  see  his  speculative  gaze,  nor 
understand  the  full  significance  of  his  last  remark. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

PIOKEE    FINDS    THE    KEY. 

OF  all  the  trials  of  Piokee's  reservation  life  Up, 
the  wanton  little  bushwhacker,  was  by  far 
the  worst. 

According  to  the  Indian  custom  of  allowing  boys 
to  have  their  own  way  from  the  time  they  leave  the 
cradle  on  their  mother's  back,  Up's  ten  short  years 
had  been  a  gala  time  of  impish  sports,  without  re- 
gard to  law  or  order.  Knowing  no  restraint  he 
feared  none,  and  a  dread  of  accident  had  never 
marred  his  keen  delight  in  reckless  gambols,  such 
as  swinging  in  the  air  at  perilous  heights  and  riding 
vicious  ponies  at  a  break-neck  speed,  in  graceful 
supple  attitudes  that  would  have  made  his  fortune 
as  a  juvenile  circus  rider. 

Whether  he  were  clad  or  naked  seemed  to  give 
him  small  concern  in  general ;  but  at  times  an  in- 
born craving  to  array  himself  in  startling  attire 
would  seize  him,  and  he  would  come  forth  a  veri- 

191 


192  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

table  little  dandy,  decked  in  finery  from  the  deer- 
skin trunk,  or  wrested  from  his  mother's  scant  but 
showy  wardrobe. 

Fauqua's  best  sack,  of  the  gayest  flowered  calico, 
became  his  tunic  upon  one  occasion,  beaded  moc- 
casins adorned  his  feet,  and  strips  of  green  and 
orange  cloth  were  wound  in  Maypole  style  about 
his  legs  outside  his  ragged  trousers,  with  astonishing 
effect.  The  little  show-dance  bonnet  crowned  his 
head,  while  Fauqua  trembled  at  the  ruin  that  was 
sure  to  overtake  it,  and  Piokee's  blue  frilled  petti- 
coat caparisoned  the  pony  that  conveyed  him  to  the 
village,  where  he  joined  a  squad  of  juvenile  riders 
that  had  decked  themselves  in  similar  fashion  for  a 
dress  parade. 

After  winding  through  the  village  till  their  vanity 
was  satiated  by  the  admiration  of  their  elders,  the 
procession  ended  in  a  horse-race,  and  at  nightfall 
Up  came  home  denuded  of  his  finery,  which  he  had 
staked  upon  the  race  and  lost.  The  little  show- 
dance  bonnet  and  Piokee's  skirt  had  gone  the  way 
of  all  the  rest. 

Piokee  was  appalled  at  this  amazing  hardihood  in 
one  so  young  as  Up.  Fauqua  wept  in  secret  at  the 
grievous  loss,  but  held  her  peace,  for  well  she  knew 
that  Cold  Blast  would  but  scowl,  and  smoke  in  silent 
sorrow,  that  the  handsome  little  bonnet  never  could 
adorn  his  own  grim  pate  in  the  spectacular  dance. 


PIOKEE    FINDS    THE    KEY  193 

He  would  not  subject  Up  to  the  ridicule  of  all  his 
fellow  youngsters  by  attempting  to  take  back  the 
things  that  had  been  fairly  won  from  him  —  accord- 
ing to  the  barbarous  code  of  fairness. 

"0,  dear,  dear!  what  would  Aunt  Abigail  say?" 
bewailed  Piokee,  in  a  burst  of  deep  despair.  "  'Twill 
never  do  to  save  the  great,  grand  name  for  Up. 
Why,  he  will  be  the  terror  of  our  life,  for  he  can  do 
just  anything  he  has  a  mind  to.  Father  doesn't  try 
to  help  it,  which  is  very  strange,  he  is  so  stern  in 
other  ways." 

"  Big  Injuns  brave  warriors.  Not  dread  war-path ; 
dread  papooses,"  Fauqua  answered,  musing  on  the 
singular  subjection  of  the  Indian  fathers  to  the  small 
braves,  whom  they  rarely  sought  to  rule. 

But  though  Up  did  not  fear  his  father,  and  dis- 
dained alike  his  mother's  mild  remonstrance  and 
Piokee's  earnest  pleadings,  there  was  one  un- 
dreamed-of key  to  his  susceptibilities  which  was  by 
chance  discovered. 

Piokee  had  not  played  a  note  upon  the  violin 
since  coming  to  the  reservation,  for  she  dreaded  to 
awake  the  memory-haunting  music,  lest  it  stir  with 
new  intensity  those  homesick  longings  she  was 
always  struggling  to  subdue. 

But  the  violin  must  not  stay  hidden  in  its  case 
forever,  and  she  knew  the  longer  she  deferred  her 
practice  the  harder  it  would  be  to  take  it  up  at  last. 


194  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

So  she  set  about  it  with  an  energetic  rush  one 
morning,  having  swept  the  floor,  and  built  a  cheer- 
ful fire,  and  opened  wide  the  hut  door  to  let  in  the 
sunshine  and  let  out  her  father's  pipe  smoke. 

To  Piokee's  great  encouragement,  her  father  had 
strolled  out  to  work  a  little  while  upon  the  pole  and 
brush  shed  he  was  slowly  building  for  the  ponies  at 
one  end  of  the  corral. 

Taking  out  her  violin  she  rubbed  the  bow  with 
rosin,  screwed  the  pegs  until  the  strings  were  taut, 
then  tuned  the  violin,  and  with  a  resolute  move- 
ment swept  the  bow  across  the  strings. 

With  the  first  note  off  she  went  into  a  graceful 
waltz,  circling  round  and  round,  and  gliding  back 
and  forth  upon  the  floor,  playing,  dancing,  singing, 
all  together. 

Having  whirled  herself  into  a  cheerful  mood, 
Piokee  was  about  to  settle  down  to  earnest  practice 
when  she  almost  stumbled  over  Up,  who  had  been 
squatting  on  a  wild-cat  skin  before  the  fire  watching 
the  bewildering  spin,  and  drinking  in  the  music 
with  enchanted  eyes  and  ears. 

"JMore  ghost  dance  —  heap  more!  "  he  demanded, 
as  she  ceased  to  whirl,  and  hovered  over  him  on 
tiptoe,  looking  down  at  his  excited  face. 

"  Oh !  it  isn't  a  ghost  dance,  it's  a  fun  dance," 
she  responded,  laughing  at  his  queer  mistake. 

"More  fun  dance  —  more,  more! "he  clamored, 


PIOKEE    FINDS    THE    KEY.  195 

and  away  she  went  again,  delighted  to  have  found 
some  means  of  stirring  one  emotion  of  a  harmless 
order  in  the  little  rogue's  strange  nature. 

The  first  strains  of  the  music  had  been  wafted  to 
Up's  ears  as  he  was  starting  on  the  chase,  and  drop- 
ping squirrel-club  and  bow  and  arrow,  he  had  slipped 
into  the  hut  to  cast  himself,  a  charmed  and  con- 
quered listener,  at  the  player's  feet. 

When  Piokee  could  not  dance  another  step,  but 
sank  into  a  chair  to  catch  her  breath,  and  then 
begin  her  practice  thrilled  with  new  and  happy 
interest  in  her  music,  Up  still  squatted  on  the  wild- 
cat skin,  to  listen  with  absorbed  attention. 

"  Bird  in  box  ?  "  he  curiously  asked,  as  she  was  rest- 
ing from  her  practice  with  the  violin  across  her  lap. 

"  The  music  lives  in  there,"  she  answered,  holding 
down  the  violin  that  he  might  peer  inside  of  it. 
"  You  wouldn't  like  to  spoil  its  nest  and  kill  the 
music  bird  ?  0,  no !  you  wouldn't  do  that,  would 
you,  Up  ?  "  She  pointed  to  the  nest,  and  tried  to 
make  her  meaning  clear  by  using  signs  with  words. 

A  little  of  his  parents'  broken  English  Up  had 
learned  by  instinct,  but  he  did  not  understand  the 
whole  of  what  Piokee  said.  Only  now  and  then 
was  there  a  word  whose  import  he  could  catch. 

"  Heap  no.  Kill  bird  sing  bad  medicine,"  he  said, 
with  superstitious  awe,  when  he  had  struggled  with 
the  new  idea  she  sought  to  press  upon  him. 


196  PIOKEE   AND    HEK   PEOPLE. 

"  But  you  break  up  nests  and  kill  the  birds  up  in 
the  trees.  They  sing  far  better  than  the  violin  — 
poor,  pretty,  sweetrvoiced  birds ! "  she  pityingly 
exclaimed. 

There  was  another  long,  hard  pause.  Up  was 
surely  thinking  now.  Nanno,  perched  upon  a  chair, 
was  stringing  beads,  and  Fauqua  was  engaged  in 
cutting  out  a  pair  of  little  moccasins  to  take  the 
place  of  those  which  Up  had  gambled  off  a  few  days 
previously. 

An  odd  gleam  shot  across  Up's  small  dark  face, 
and  thereupon  he  breathed  a  secret  that  had  never 
been  revealed  to  mortal  ear  till  now. 

"  I  sharp  hark.  Not  shoot  bird  sing ;  shoot  bird 
keep  still  —  whiz-z-z  !  "  and  with  a  quick,  peculiar 
sound  he  sped  a  fanciful  arrow  through  the  air  to 
pierce  a  voiceless  bird. 

And  thus  it  was  discovered  that  the  wanton  little 
bushwhacker  had  been  listening  to  the  music  of  the 
birds,  and  in  his  war  upon  the  helpless  wild  things 
which  he  had  not  learned  to  pity  he  had  spared  the 
feathered  songsters. 

It  was  not  yet  time  to  plead  the  cause  of  those 
still  creatures  that  could  never  charm  him  with  a 
song,  and  so  Piokee  waited  until  she  could  use  the 
key  again,  to  gain  some  further  access  to  the  little 
red  man's  inner  nature,  where  he  kept  his  budding 
sentiments  securely  locked. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   BOXES. 

OH!  the  dear  delight  of  those  capacious  boxes. 
Two  they  were,  for  it  was  found  that  one, 
however  large,  could  not  contain  the  absolute  neces- 
sities that  Mamma  Prairie  and  Aunt  Abigail  sped 
away  by  mail  and  wagon  route,  to  where  the  foster- 
daughter  had  begun  her  new  strange  life,  so  destitute 
of  comforts. 

The  boxes  were  expressed  in  care  of  Dr.  Whistler, 
who  sent  a  man  to  haul  them  from  the  Agency, 
where  they  had  been  delivered  by  a  freighter  who 
had  brought  them  from  the  railroad  station  fifty 
miles  and  more  away.  They  were  supplied  with 
lids  and  lock  and  key,  like  trunks,  for  well  the 
senders  knew  there  were  no  closets  in  the  hut  to 
hold  their  contents,  should  they  be  unpacked. 

"  Pairs  and  pairs  of  snowy  sheets  and  pillow- 
cases," said  Piokee,  taking  off  the  topmost  layer  of 
the  box  she  opened  first  in  eager  haste.  "  And  oh ' 

197 


198  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

the  white,  white  nightgowns  I  have  missed  so  much, 
and  half  a  dozen  other  little  ones  that  I  outgrew  at 
your  age,  Nanno.  Now  we'll  be  two  dreamers  all 
in  white,  just  like  the  big  and  little  sisters  in  the 
lovely  other  world.  That  dark  brown  flannel  wrap- 
per that  was  all  I  had  to  wear  at  night,  and  the 
calico  slip  with  such  a  mass  of  patches  that  has  been 
your  only  nightgown,  were  enough  to  spoil  our 
dreams  and  make  us  feel  like  wood-mice  that  have 
never  been  undressed. 

"Patchwork  quilts  from  good  Aunt  Abigail  — 
one,  two  —  yes,  three  !  "  pulling  out  another  layer ; 
"  and  the  pretty  red-lined  comforter  I  helped  to  tie 
myself  nine  weeks  —  no,  let  me  think  —  ten  weeks 
ago  to-morrow.  It  was  made  for  my  own  bed,  and 
one  would  think  'twas  stuffed  with  swan's-down  it's 
so  light  and  puffy,  yet  so  warm.  And  here's  an- 
other, 'With  regards  to  Mrs.  Cold  Blast  from  A. 
Wilde,' "  reading  from  a  slip  of  paper  pinned  to  a 
substantial  comforter,  and  with  a  merry  fling  quite 
smothering  Fauqua  in  its  ample  folds. 

"  Heap  fine,"  said  Fauqua,  thrusting  out  her  head 
and  strutting  round  the  hut  with  childish  pride, 
enveloped  in  the  comforter. 

"Here  are  two  nice  bedticks  we  can  fill  with 
clean  husks  for  the  beds,"  Piokee  said,  as  she  went 
on  exploring  the  delightful  box.  "  A  wolfskin  mat- 
tress on  a  hard  pole  bedstead  doesn't  make  the 


THE    BOXES.  201 

softest  kind  of  bed.  The  ponies  haven't  picked  off 
all  the  husks,  grazing  through  the  cornpatch,  and  I 
think  we'll  find  enough  to  fill  the  ticks.  I've  never 
asked  you,  mother,  but  I'm  afraid  you  raised  that 
corn  yourself,"  she  added,  all  at  once  remembering 
her  father's  plan  with  which  he  had  dismayed  her 
in  the  woodman's  hut,  that  she  should  help  the 
mother  hoe  corn  in  the  spring. 

"  Cold  Blast  plow  ground ;  I  plant  corn,  hoe 
weeds.  Big  Injun  not  work  much,"  was  Fauqua's 
answer. 

"  0,  dear  me  !  if  all  the  blanket  Indians  were  not 
so  big,  there'd  be  more  hope  for  them,"  Piokee 
sighed.  "  I  wonder  where  it  all  began  —  that  ter- 
rible mistake  of  fancying  themselves  such  lordly  be- 
ings that  the  women  ought  to  be  their  slaves.  I'm 
very  sure  it  didn't  spring  from  Adam,  for  according 
to  the  Bible,  Eve  could  lead  him  almost  by  a  string. 
But  whom  did  it  spring  from  —  Jew  or  Gentile, 
Hottentot  or  some  deluded  Indian  ancestor?"  she 
queried,  diving  down  still  deeper,  and  fishing  out  a 
little  Scotch  plaid  frock,  a  woollen  petticoat  and 
several  gingham  aprons. 

"  Hi-dum  di-dum  diddle-um  de! 
I'm  not  so  young  as  I  used  to  be," 

she  sang,  "  but  Nanno  is,  and  Mamma  Prairie  told 
me  I  might  keep  my  little  girl  clothes  till  I  found 


202  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

some  other  red-brown  midget  who  could  slip  right 
into  them  —  and  here  you  are,  without  a  bit  of 
taking  up  or  letting  down." 

Stripping  Nanno  of  the  soiled  red  coat  she  had 
been  wearing  for  a  frock  since  coming  from  the  pe- 
can camp,  Piokee  whisked  the  little  girl  clothes  on 
to  her,  presently  discovering  some  shoes  and  stock- 
ings that  exactly  fitted  her.  Thus  the  little  mocca- 
sins and  leggings  were  cast  off  forever. 

There  was  clothing  for  Piokee  and  there  were 
some  comfortable  garments  Fauqua  could  make  use 
of.  Further  down  were  towels,  tablecloths  and  nap- 
kins, many  sweet  surprises  Miriam  had  planned  for 
Nanno  in  the  shape  of  picture-books  and  playthings, 
pattycakes  and  candies.  And  with  all  the  rest  there 
were  some  small  convenient  treasures  from  the  little 
white  room  which  Piokee  scarce  could  do  without, 
yet  had  not  dreamed  that  she  should  ever  see  again. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  as  if  we'd  ever  reach  the  bot- 
torn,"  said  Piokee,  hooking  up  a  good-sized  bundle 
with  the  handle  of  her  silk  umbrella  she  had  been 
rejoiced  to  find  within  the  box.  "  Oh  !  this  is  la- 
beled 'Adoniram  Judson,' "  and  she  hastily  untied 
the  cord  that  bound  the  bundle. 

"  Everything  Up  needs  to  wear.  A  complete  out- 
fit!" she  exclaimed  when  she  had  viewed  the  con- 
tents. "  Generous  Aunt  Abigail  must  have  bought 
them  ready-made,  and  sewed  the  buttons  on  again 


THE    BOXES.  203 

with  extra  care,"  delightedly  examining  the  young- 
ster's outfit.  "  They  are  strong  and  warm,  and 
really  stylish,  and  it  doesn't  matter  in  the  least  if 
they  are  just  a  speck  too  large.  Of  course  she 
doesn't  know  that  Up  is  such  a  spidery  little  fellow. 
I  can  shorten  the  overcoat  if  it  drags,  and  turning 
up  the  trousers  legs  and  sleeves  will  be  the  easiest 
of  things  to  do." 

"A  cap  and  mittens,  woollen  underclothes  and 
several  pairs  of  thick,  warm  stockings,  with  a  pair 
of  shoes  that  he  can  wear  through  flood  and  fire  by 
stuffing  something  in  the  toes  to  keep  them  on  his 
feet.  Now  Up  will  be  a  regular  little  citizen  of  the 
United  States,  if  he  will  only  wash  himself  and  wear 
the  clothes  and  keep  from  falling  straight  back  into 
rags  and  tags." 

Up  had  seen  the  boxes  lifted  from  the  wagon  by 
his  father  and  the  man  who  hauled  them  from  the 
Agency,  and  curious  to  find  out  what  was  in  them, 
he  had  squatted  on  the  floor  to  watch  Piokee  during 
the  unpacking.  When  she  had  displayed  the  little 
citizen's  garb,  and  made  him  understand  that  he 
must  take  a  bath  before  he  would  be  fit  to  put  it  on, 
he  darted  from  the  house,  seizing  one  of  Nanno's 
nightgowns  in  his  hasty  exit. 

"  Well,  what  now,  I  wonder  ? "  said  Piokee,  quite 
bewildered  by  the  sudden  scamper. 

"  Up-a-tree  go  swim,"  was  Fauqua's  explanation. 


204  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  Why,  he  can't  be  going  to  the  creek  to  strip  him- 
self and  take  a  bath  in  the  middle  of  December ! " 
said  Piokee  in  amazement. 

Fanqua  nodded  placidly.  "  Heap  tough  boy. 
Dance  on  ice  barefooted/'  she  responded. 

"  Well,  he's  taken  one  of  Nanno's  nightgowns  for 
a  towel,"  said  Piokee  ;  "  but  we  won't  mind  that  if 
he  will  only  bring  it  back.  But  what  a  cold  bath 
he  will  have.  It  fairly  sets  my  teeth  a-chattering 
just  to  think  of  it." 

Up  did  not  have  the  strong  aversion  to  a  souse  in 
water  that  is  deemed  a  characteristic  of  the  little 
red-skinned  brave.  He  loved  to  swim,  and  as  a 
mark  of  hardihood  was  proud  to  show  that  he  could 
plunge  into  the  wrater  in  the  coldest  weather  and  en- 
dure the  frigid  torture  with  astonishing  composure. 

"  As  I  live ! "  exclaimed  Piokee,  coming  to  the 
bottom  of  the  box  at  last,  "  here  is  the  plaid  coat  that 
Big  Joe,  the  herder,  never  wore  but  once,  because 
his  cruel  sweetheart  said  she  didn't  fancy  seeing 
men  dressed  up  like  checker-boards,  and  wouldn't 
dance  with  him  the  night  that  he  appeared  in  it  at 
Mrs.  Biddle's  party.  He  has  given  it  to  father  — 
the  extravagant,  generous  fellow,  and  I'll  write  a 
note  of  special  thanks  to  him.  And  here's  a  plush 
cap  of  Grandpapa  Wilde's  that  will  be  a  much  more 
gentlemanly  headgear  than  those  crippled  dolls  that 
father  dresses  up  in  when  he  goes  away  from  home. 


THE   BOXES.  205 

They  look  more  hideous  than  ever  since  they've  lost 
so  many  arms  and  legs,  and  one  or  two  have  fract- 
ured skulls." 

The  other  box  was  filled  with  groceries,  including 
flour  and  ham,  and  fruit,  both  canned  and  dried. 
And  in  a  box  within  the  box  there  was  a  set  of 
strong  white  crockery,  and  other  tableware,  with 
knives  and  forks  and  spoons  that  could  endure  hard 
usage,  and  when  tarnished  be  restored  by  scouring. 

From  tissue-paper  wrappings  in  a  pasteboard  box 
inside  the  crockery  box,  came  forth  the  napkin-ring, 
the  knife  and  fork,  the  pair  of  spoons  and  water  cup 
of  silver  that  had  been  Piokee's  since  her  childhood. 

Fair-faced  girls  in  well-appointed  homes,  have 
you  the  least  conception  of  the  joy  Piokee  felt  in 
having  these  belongings  of  her  civilized  life  once 
more,  after  drinking  from  an  old  tin  cup,  and  eating 
from  an  old  tin  plate,  with  pewter  spoon  and  fork 
with  broken  tines,  and  rusty  knife  blade  that  had 
lost  its  handle  ? 

Presently  Up  reappeared,  a  little  nude,  bronze 
figure  covered  with  a  blanket  drapery.  He  had 
cast  his  rags  and  tags  into  the  creek  in  view  of  put- 
ting on  the  new  suit,  which  he  seemed  quite  proud 
to  don.  Nanno's  nightgown  he  had  thought  to 
bring  back,  and  had  hung  it  on  a  bush  to  dry. 

"  After  all,  he  isn't  so  completely  lost  in  them  as 
I  was  half-afraid  he'd  be,"  Piokee  said,  when  Up 


206  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

was  dressed  from  top  to  toe  in  Adoniram  Judson's 
clothes.  "It  isn't  best  to  pinch  a  small  boy,  and 
perhaps  he'll  take  a  sudden  start  and  grow  to  fill 
them  out." 

Having  had  such  grand  success  in  hustling  Up 
into  his  civilized  garb,  Piokee  was  most  eager  to 
begin  to  renovate  her  father,  and  picking  up  his 
coat  and  cap,  out  she  flew  to  the  corral,  where  she 
thought  to  find  him  working  on  the  half-built  shed. 
He  was  not  there,  nor  could  she  find  him  anywhere. 

In  coming  back  from  the  corral  she  noticed  that 
her  pony  was  nowhere  in  sight,  and  wondering  how 
he  could  have  strayed  away  when  she  had  lariated 
him  with  care  a  few  rods  from  the  door,  she  raised 
her  voice  and  called  him.  But  he  did  not  answer 
with  his  usual  whinny  and  come  prancing  up  to  her 
as  he  was  wont  to  do  when  called. 

Wondering  still  more,  she  searched  for  him  in  the 
ravines  and  elsewhere,  but  could  find  no  trace  of 
him. 

Now  much  alarmed,  she  ran  toward  the  house  and 
met  Up  trotting  down  the  path,  as  if  the  call  for 
Chipmunk  applied  equally  to  him,  and  with  unusual 
obedience  he  were  responding  to  it. 

Stopping  suddenly  before  her,  Up  let  off  a  quick, 
expressive  whinny,  pointing  down  the  narrow  road 
that  led  into  the  timber  near  the  hut. 

"  Swapee  Chip.     Buy  shoot.     Fight  white  man," 


THE   BOXES.  207 

was  his  startling  explanation  of   the  pony's  disap- 
pearance. 

"  Oh  !  it  isn't  so,  it  can't  be,"  cried  Piokee,  catch- 
ing him  by  both  arms  in  a  frantic  grasp.  "  Why, 
Chipmunk  is  my  very  own,  and  no  one  in  the  whole 
wide  world,  not  even  father,  has  a  right  to  sell  him. 
It  would  be  too  cruel,  and  you  would  have  told  me 
sooner  if  you'd  known  that  father  meant  to  rob  me 
of  my  precious  pony." 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

TO    THE    RESCUE. 

BUT  in  spite  of  her  reluctance  to  believe  him, 
she  was  forced  to  think  that  Up  had  told  the 
truth.  His  wiry  little  arms  were  smarting  in  her 
tight,  despairing  clutch,  but  he  bore  the  pain  with 
stoicism,  though  his  usual  elfish  grin  was  conspicu- 
ously absent  from  his  face. 

"  How  did  you  find  out  that  he  meant  to  sell  my 
pony  ?  Do  you  know  where  he  has  taken  him  ? 
Which  way  —  how  far  —  how  long  has  he  been 
gone?  Why  don't  you  answer,  quick?"  were  the 
imperative  questions  which  she  poured  out  on  her 
dazed  and  dogged  little  captive,  quite  forgetting 
that  his  thoughts  could  not  keep  pace  with  hers, 
and  that  his  words  were  fe^y  and  difficult. 

"  Oh !  I'm  afraid  you'll  never  understand  me," 
seeing  her  mistake.  "  Now  listen  hard,  and  try  to 
tell  me,"  she  entreated,  holding  him  less  painfully 
though  quite  as  firmly,  fearing  he  would  slip  away 

208 


TO  THE  RESCUE.  209 

from  her.  And  then,  by  slower,  simpler  speech  and 
signs,  she  drew  from  him  a  further  explanation. 

"  I  hear.  He  tell  man.  Box  haul.  Go  Agency. 
Swapee  Chip.  Man  talk  swapee." 

"  0,  Up  !  how  could  you  let  him  carry  Chipmunk 
off  and  never  tell  me?  I  am  sure  I  could  have 
saved  him  some  way  if  I'd  only  known  it.  The 
man  who  hauled  the  boxes  came  just  after  dinner. 
Father  must  have  gone  right  off  with  him.  They 
left  at  least  two  hours  ago.  The  Agency  is  more 
than  fifteen  miles  away.  But  we  must  start  at  once. 
I've  never  been  there  —  do  you  know  the  way  ?  " 

Again  was  Up  entangled  in  her  maze  of  words, 
and  again  Piokee  made  him  understand. 

He  knew  the  way,  for  many  times  had  he  strolled 
thither  with  his  father  or  a  troop  of  youngsters 
from  the  village,  often  staying  over  night,  begging 
food  and  sleeping  in  the  brush,  or  when  the  nights 
were  frosty,  in  some  shed  or  whatsoever  shelter  he 
could  find. 

The  mother  offered  no  objection  to  the  expedi- 
tion under  Up's  escort,  for  he  agreed  to  lead  the 
way,  although  she  wondered  at  Piokee' s  daring  in 
attempting  to  pursue  her"  father  for  the  purpose  of 
recovering  her  pony.  Fauqua  did  not  fear  harsh 
punishment  for  Up,  as  he  had  never  suffered  from 
paternal  discipline,  and  she  had  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  guide  Piokee  safely  to  the  Agency. 


210  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

Piokee  quickly  changed  her  dress  for  one  of  dull 
red  cashmere  she  had  taken  from  the  box,  and  slip- 
ping on  her  long  warm  ulster  and  her  cap  and  mit- 
tens, she  was  ready  in  a  trice,  leaving  Fauqua  to 
repack  and  lock  the  boxes. 

Fauqua  speedily  equipped  her  own  pony  with 
Piokee's  brown  plush  saddle  that  had  hung  inside 
the  hut  and  was  not  carried  off  with  Chipmunk, 
while  Up  strapped  his  wrooden  saddle  on  the  restive 
mustang  he  could  call  his  own  till  he  was  traded  for 
some  other  little  beast. 

With  all  her  haste  Piokee  stopped  to  seize  a  pair 
of  saddle-bags  and  fling  them  over  Fauqua's  pony, 
putting  into  one  Up's  blanket  and  into  the  other 
the  Navajo  blankets  and  some  biscuit  wrapped  in 
paper.  She  had  found  some  silver  dollars  in  her 
purse  within  her  little  writing-desk  the  box  had 
brought  her,  which  would  more  than  pay  for  food 
and  lodging  at  the  Agency,  if  they  arrived  in  safety ; 
but  she  knew  not  what  might  happen,  and  she 
wished  to  be  prepared  for  any  misadventure. 

Overflowing  with  a  sense  of  his  importance  as  the 
leader  of  a  rescue  party,  though  the  captive  were 
but  Chipmunk  being  led  away  for  sale,  Up  swelled 
with  pride  until  his  ample  little  citizen's  garb  could 
scarce  contain  the  length  and  breadth  of  his  pom- 
posity. That  he  was  out  in  strikingly  unusual  ap- 
parel added  not  a  little  to  his  airs  and  graces.  The 


TO   THE    RESCUE.  211 

unruly  mustang  capered  on  before  in  highest  mettle, 
curveting,  shying,  pirouetting,  Fauqua's  pony  fol- 
lowing at  a  quick  but  steady  pace. 

They  rode  along  a  narrow,  grass-grown  track  that 
wandered  through  a  heavy  thicket  for  some  dis- 
tance, when  they  found  a  somewhat  wider  road 
which  they  pursued  mile  after  mile,  within  the  tim- 
ber and  across  wide  openings  or  small  prairies,  ford- 
ing streams,  sometimes  of  risky  depth,  climbing  hills 
and  plunging  into  rocky  hollpws. 

Once  they  met  a  squad  of  dark-browed  blanket 
horsemen,  whose  lowering  stares  so  terrified  Piokee 
that  she  trembled  in  the  saddle.  Now  and  then 
they  passed  a  solitary  hut  surrounded  by  a  few 
tilled  acres,  showing  that  some  member  of  the  tribe 
was  struggling  to  shake  off  the  sloth  that  chains  the 
red  man  to  a  life  of  want. 

As  they  pressed  on,  Up  grew  absorbed  in  watch- 
ing birds  and  squirrels,  quail  and  prairie  chickens, 
that  appeared  to  have  cast  off  their  shyness  and 
come  out  in  flocks  to  tantalize  the  little  gamester, 
who  had  left  his  hunting  weapons  at  the  hut. 

A  brood  of  quail  went  scudding  on  before  him  in 
the  road.  To  chase  them  was  a  natural  impulse,  and 
Up  urged  his  pony  forward.  Away  they  whirred 
into  the  air,  and  presently  alighted  on  the  ground 
again,  some  way  ahead,  to  speed  into  a  byway,  where 
perhaps  they  had  a  snuggery  further  on. 


212  PIOKEE  AND  HER  PEOPLE. 

Still  after  them  rushed  Up,  forgetting  he  had  left 
the  road,  and  thinking  they  should  go  that  way, 
Piokee  followed  him. 

With  heads  erect  and  nimble,  tireless  feet,  the 
tiny  things  ran  on  until  the  pony  almost  overtook 
them,  when  they  rose  upon  the  wing  once  more. 
Thus  they  led  the  eager  little  urchin  on  and  on,  till 
finally  they  settled  down  among  some  hazel  bushes 
at  one  side. 

Scarcely  had  they  cleared  the  way  when  a  large 
jack-rabbit  took  the  path,  and  turning,  faced  Up  for 
a  wink,  then  bounded  off  with  tantalizing  leaps. 

There  was  another  chase,  two  smaller  rabbits  and 
a  squirrel  joining  in  the  general  conspiracy  to  lead 
the  travelers  astray. 

Piokee,  who  was  making  all  the  speed  she  could 
to  follow  Up  along  the  zigzag  path,  but  found  it 
difficult  to  even  keep  in  sight  of  him,  met  him 
coming  back  at  length,  looking  somewhat  dazed. 

"  Ough  !  "  he  muttered.     "  Heap  wrong  road." 

"Dear  me!"  exclaimed  Piokee,  in  dismay.  "I 
wondered  if  this  narrow  road  could  be  the  right 
way,  but  I  couldn't  catch  you  to  inquire.  Let's 
hurry  back  into  the  road.  It's  growing  late,  and 
how  much  precious  time  we've  lost." 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  retrace  their  steps,  for 
there  were  three  paths  leading  from  the  road,  some 
way  apart  in  the  beginning,  but  at  this  point  inter- 


TO    THE    RESCUE.  213 

secting  one  another  in  a  puzzling  manner.  In  the 
whirl  of  turning  back  the  riders  lost  their  bearings, 
and  at  every  step  went  further  from  the  road. 

The  sky  was  overcast  with  clouds,  hence  there 
were  no  lengthening  shadows  to  apprise  Piokee  of 
the  time  of  day,  but  soon  she  saw  that  dark  was 
settling  on  the  timber  path  along  which  they  were 
wandering  aimlessly. 

"  We'll  have  to  stay  here  in  the  woods  all  night, 
and  we  must  stop  right  now,  before  it  gets  so  dark 
that  we  can't  see  our  hands  before  us,"  she  decided 
in  despair,  as  they  were  halting  in  the  middle  of  a 
creek  to  let  the  ponies  drink.  "  0,  dear !  now  I 
have  lost  all  hope  of  saving  Chipmunk,  and  what/- 
ever  will  become  of  us?  There's  going  to  be  a 
snowstorm,  and  'twill  be  so  cold  and  dark,  and  I'm 
afraid  that  there  are  fierce  wild  animals  in  these 
woods." 

Up  was  very  willing  to  give  up  the  journey  for 
the  night,  for  he  was  tired  and  hungry,  and  withal 
much  taken  down  that  he  had  proved  himself  so 
lamentable  a  failure  as  a  guide. 

As  they  dismounted  on  the  bank  Piokee  felt  some 
snowflakes  falling,  and  shivered  at  the  dismal  whistle 
of  the  wind  among  the  trees. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
BRUNO'S  DISCOVERY. 

AT  his  bachelor  breakfast-table  in  his  sunny 
dining-roorn  sat  Dr.  Whistler,  looking  through 
the  papers  which  the  stage  had  cast  off  at  the  cross- 
path  into  Lemuel's  hands  the  afternoon  before  while 
the  doctor  was  away  upon  a  round  of  visits  to  his 
patients. 

There  were  flowers  blooming  in  the  windows  of 
this  pleasant  room,  and  in  a  cage  that  hung  above 
a  mass  of  red  geraniums  a  mocking-bird  poured 
out  his  song,  swinging  on  his  perch  with  jubilant 
activity. 

"  Laws  a  massy,  Doctor,  w'at  yo'  reckon  dat  peart 
dog  done  fotched  in  now  ? "  said  Lemuel's  wife, 
Kesiah,  coming  from  the  kitchen  hugging  some- 
thing under  one  arm,  while  her  hands  were  bring- 
ing in  a  coffee-pot  and  tray  of  snowy  biscuit,  baked 
potatoes  and  a  slice  of  pink  broiled  ham.  "  'Tain't 
no  squir'l  nur  rabbit  nur  a  woodchuck  Bruno's  done 

214 


BRUNO'S  DISCOVERY.  215 

scart  up  dis  mornin'.  It's  a  han'some  cap,  an'  sho's 
yo'  bo'n  he  fetched  it  in  a  bee-line  f'om  de  timber." 

Having  placed  the  breakfast  on  the  table,  she 
exhibited  the  dog's  discovery. 

It  was  Piokee's  cap  —  a  little  striped  affair  of 
brown  and  white,  with  tassel  hanging  from  the 
pointed  top.  Dr.  Whistler  knew  it  in  an  instant. 
Quite  a  bunch  of  fringe  was  missing  from  the  tassel, 
as  he  had  observed  the  day  she  wore  it,  sitting  on 
the  stump  to  read  the  letters  he  had  brought  her. 

Starting  up  he  seized  his  hat,  and  calling  Bruno 
hastened  out  of  doors,  the  cap  in  hand. 

The  ground  was  white  with  snow,  and  Bruno's 
tracks  were  plainly  to  be  traced.  The  dog,  more- 
over, trotted  on  ahead,  and  led  the  way  into  the 
timber  just  beyond  the  opening  wherein  was  Dr. 
Whistler's  large,  well-cultivated  farm.  His  house 
was  but  a  few  rods  from  the  timber's  edge. 

The  trail  that  Dr.  Whistler  followed  ended  at  two 
wood-piles,  close  together  in  a  parallel  line,  quite 
near  the  creek  by  which  Piokee  had  decided  to  en- 
camp the  night  before.  Across  the  narrow  space 
between  the  wood-piles  she  had  stretched  a  roof  of 
cord-wood,  walling  up  both  ends  with  horizontal 
sticks.  Within  this  she  and  Up  had  passed  the 
night,  protected  by  their  blankets,  with  saddles  for 
their  pillows. 

Her  anxiety  concerning  Chipmunk  and  the  situ- 


216  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

ation  she  and  Up  were  in  had  kept  Piokee  wide 
awake  till  far  into  the  night,  when  she  dropped  into 
a  weary  sleep  from  which  she  had  not  waked  when 
Dr.  Whistler  approached  the  camping  place. 

The  ponies,  lariated  to  a  tree  near  by,  greeted 
him  with  boisterous  whinnying,  at  the  sound  of 
which  she  started  up  and  pushed  away  the  sticks 
that  blocked  the  entrance  to  the  little  dark  abode, 
letting  in  a  flood  of  light  that  blinded  her  at  first. 

Great  was  her  astonishment  when  she  regained 
her  sight,  to  find  that  she  was  kneeling  at  the  feet 
of  Dr.  Whistler,  who  was  standing  in  the  snow, 
gazing  down  on  her  with  much  alarm. 

"  0,  my  dear  child !  what  can  be  the  meaning  of 
all  this  ? "  he  asked,  with  pained  surprise.  "  My 
poor  neglected  child,  what  brought  you  here  in  this 
strange  plight?" 

"  Chipmunk,"  she  replied,  with  quivering  lips. 
"  0,  my  chief !  he's  taken  him  away  from  me  —  my 
own,  own  Chipmunk  —  father  has.  He  didn't  know 
how  much  I  loved  my  precious  pony,  and  he  led 
him  off  before  I  knew  it,  and  was  going  to  sell  him 
at  the  Agency.  We  started  out  to  try  to  save  him, 
Up  and  I,  and  lost  our  way,  and  had  to  camp  out 
here  all  night.  But  how,  I  wonder,  came  you  here  ? 
And  you  have  found  my  cap !  I  lost  it  off  last 
night  while  I  was  working  on  the  roof,  and  couldn't 
see  to  hunt  it  in  the  dark." 


I 


BRUNO'S  DISCOVERY.  219 

Dr.  Whistler's  face  grew  stormy  as  he  heard  her 
mournful  little  story.  Striding  to  the  ponies  he 
untied  them  hastily,  put  the  bits  into  their  mouths, 
and  led  them  to  the  wood-piles,  while  Piokee  was 
emerging  from  the  camping  place  and  shaking  off 
the  snow  from  the  Navajo  blankets  that  had  drifted 
in  at  night. 

Up  had  also  overslept,  but  he  bestirred  himself 
forthwith,  crawling  from  his  quarters  in  the  further 
end,  and  dragging  out  his  wooden  saddle  by  one 
stirrup. 

By  the  time  he  had  the  ponies  ready  for  a  start, 
Dr.  Whistler  had  regained  his  usual  calmness. 

"  We  will  seek  and  find  the  pony  in  all  possible 
haste,"  was  his  comforting  assurance,  "  but  we  must 
take  time  to  eat  our  breakfast  first  of  all.  Kesiah 
will  keep  it  warm  for  us,  and  I  shall  have  the  joy 
of  seeing  you,  my  little  friend  Piokee,  at  my  lone- 
some table.  I  anticipate  that  you  will  pour  my 
coffee,  and  will  take  delight  in  doing  it,"  he  added, 
with  a  cordial  smile,  placing  her  upon  the  saddle. 

"  Oh ! "  exclaimed  Piokee,  with  a  happy  little 
gasp,  "  oh  !  how  lovely  that  will  be  !  " 

Her  trouble  was  dispelled  as  if  by  magic.  She 
had  faith  in  Dr.  Whistler's  ability  to  do  all  things, 
even  to  persuade  her  father  to  restore  her  pony,  if 
he  had  not  yet  been  sold,  or  to  reclaim  him  if  he  had. 

"  Lor,  Lem,  look  yander ! "  said  Kesiah,  espying 


220  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

the  procession  coining  from  the  woods,  Dr.  Whistler 
walking  briskly  on  ahead,  Piokee  riding  close  behind 
him,  and  Up  straggling  in  the  rear.  The  two  black 
faces  peered  in  great  amazement  from  the  kitchen 
window.  "It's  a  gal  an'  boy  he's  done  fetched 
home,  as  sho's  yo'  bo'n,  an'  de  gal's  got  on  dat  berry 
cap  w'at  Bruno  scart  up  in  de  brush." 

The  wanderers  found  good  cheer  awaiting  them 
in  Dr.  Whistler's  comfortable  farmhouse,  built  in 
Southern  fashion,  all  one  story,  with  verandas  on 
three  sides.  Lemuel  made  haste  to  light  a  fire 
already  laid  within  an  air-tight  stove,  and  warmed 
the  guest  room  in  a  twinkling.  Here  Piokee  made 
a  hasty  toilet,  Kesiah  hovering  near  to  wait  on  her. 

What  joy  to  pour  the  coffee,  sitting  face  to  face 
with  Dr.  Whistler  at  his  civilized  breakfast-table, 
which  could  be  extended  to  great  length,  as  hospi- 
tality demanded,  but  was  now  in  a  cosey  size  for 
two.  Up  was  cared  for  by  Kesiah  in  the  kitchen, 
as  he  could  not  be  enticed  into  the  dining-room. 

"I  wish  I  had  you  all  the  time,  my  child,"  said 
Dr.  Whistler,  gazing  at  the  young  face  just  across 
the  table,  whose  beaming  eyes  were  bent  serenely 
on  the  stream  of  amber  coffee  mingling  with  the 
cream.  "  How  would  it  seem  were  you  to  sit  there 
as  the  years  go  by,  and  pour  my  coffee  till  you  were 
so  tall  and  dignified  that  I  should  hardly  dare  to  say 
'  my  child  '  to  you  ?  " 


BKUNO'S    DISCOVERY.  221 

"  Why,  it  would  seem  precisely  like  a  fairy  story, 
as  it  does  now,"  said  Piokee,  looking  brightly  up  to 
pass  his  cup.  "  Oh  !  you  needn't  almost  smile  be- 
cause I'm  sixteen  and  too  old  to  talk  of  fairies.  I 
shall  always  love  the  dear  things  like  a  child,  and 
half-believe  they're  in  the  world.  Lost  and  cold 
and  hungry  and  distressed ;  found  and  warmed  and 
fed  and  comforted  by  Prince  Bountiful.  Now  isn't 
that  just  beautiful  enough  to  have  the  fairies  mixed 
up  in  it  ? " 

"  It  will  be  too  hard  to  send  you  forth  so  like  a 
lonesome  sparrow  that  has  only  flitted  down  to 
snatch  a  crumb  and  speed  away,"  repined  he,  seeing 
but  the  stern  realities  of  reservation  life. 

"But  not  one  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground  with- 
out the  Father,"  said  Piokee  trustfully. 

"  I  need  your  faith,"  said  he,  mixing  in  the  sugar 
to  his  coffee  with  disconsolate  stirs.  "  I  must  con- 
fess it  shakes  my  trust  in  Providence  to  think  that 
you  are  in  the  very  center  of  the  baffling  Indian 
problem,  so  hemmed  in  by  a  world-defying  Chinese 
wall." 

"  Oh !  but  the  Tartars  can  go  in  and  out  as  they've 
a  mind  to  now,  you  know.  The  old  Chinese  wall  is 
nothing  but  a  heap  of  rubbish  for  over  half  its 
length,"  was  Piokee's  stroke  of  memory  as  to  his- 
tory. "  And  don't  you  think  our  wall  will  be  that 
way  sometime  ?  " 


222  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

"  Yes ;  if  we  can  wait  for  it  to  crumble  into  dust," 
he  gloomily  replied.  "  But  that  will  never  be,  I 
fear,  till  we  are  pretty  well  exterminated  as  a  race." 

"  It  won't  be  left  to  crumble,"  she  predicted  hope- 
fully. "They'll  batter  it  both  ways  —  the  civilized 
Indians  on  the  inside  and  the  white  reformers  on 
the  outside,  till  there'll  be  some  big  gaps  very  soon, 
if  it  doesn't  all  come  down." 

"You  are  a  cheerful  little  prophet,"  he  responded, 
yielding  with  reviving  courage  to  the  sway  of  this 
child-woman,  who  confessed  she  half-believed  in 
fairies,  yet  was  helping  batter  down  the  Chinese 
wall  about  the  great  Indian  problem. 

Lemuel  fed  the  ponies  at  the  barn  and  saddled 
Dr.  Whistler's  horse,  and  there  was  not  a  moment 
lost  in  starting  after  breakfast. 

Something  like  an  hour's  canter  in  the  crisp  but 
sunny  morning  air  brought  the  rescue  party  to  a 
small  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the  Agency.  There 
was  a  picket  fence  around  the  yard,  whose  flower- 
beds and  shrubbery,  in  their  season,  made  a  most 
attractive  spot. 

"  This  is  the  home  of  Mrs.  Means,  the  famous 
baby  of  the  Black  Hawk  War,  whose  Indian  name 
is  Wapaseta,"  Dr.  Whistler  said.  "  You  would  like 
to  meet  this  interesting  woman,  and  she  would  en- 
joy a  call  from  you,  so  I  will  leave  you  here  awhile. 
Up  can  go  with  me," 


BRUNO'S  DISCOVERY.  223 

"  Oh !  she  swam  the  Wisconsin  River  on  her 
mother's  back.  I've  always  wished  to  meet  the 
famous  Black  Hawk  baby,"  said  Piokee,  walking  up 
the  sunny  path  to  Wapaseta's  door  as  if  the  ground 
whereon  she  trod  was  sacred. 

In  response  to  Dr.  Whistler's  rap  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  gray-haired  woman  of  remarkable  ap- 
pearance. She  had  the  wonderful  dark  eyes,  un- 
dimmed  by  age,  and  clear-cut  features  which  the 
mixed-blood  Indian  women  often  have.  Her  good 
command  of  English,  and  refined,  intelligent  man- 
ner, showed  that  she  was  far  above  the  great 
majority  of  her  tribe  in  culture. 

As  Dr.  Whistler  was  a  missionary  doctor,  so  Wapa- 
seta  was  a  missionary  nurse,  and  both  were  striving 
to  alleviate  the  pain  and  woe  which  their  race  was 
suffering  through  ignorance  and  sloth. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   HISTORICAL    BABY. 

TT  was  many  years  ago,"  said  Wapaseta,  when 

J-  Piokee  asked  her  to  relate  the  story  of  her 
famous  swim  across  the  Wisconsin  River,  which  had 
made  her  the  historical  baby  of  the  Black  Hawk 
War.  "  You  see  my  hair  is  gray,  my  dear,  and  I 
was  then  a  very  young  child,  who  had  seen  the 
crocus  bloom  but  three  times  in  the  beautiful  Rock 
River  country  which  our  people  loved  so  fondly, 
and  the  white  men  were  so  pitilessly  fighting  to 
possess. 

"  In  a  most  deplorable  condition  Black  Hawk  and 
his  little  band  of  warriors  found  themselves  upon 
the  bank  of  the  Wisconsin  River,  whither  they  had 
been  pursued  and  overtaken  by  the  troops. 

"There  was  a  desperate  engagement,  and  the 
Sacs  were  scattered  like  the  leaves  before  the  wind. 
Some  escaped  into  the  woods,  some  crossed  the  river 
in  canoes,  and  many  fell  in  their  attempted  flight. 

224 


THE    HISTORICAL   BABY.  225 

"My  mother,  who  was  then  but  eighteen  years 
of  age,  had  been  concealed  in  a  defile,  with  her  be- 
longings strapped  upon  her  pony's  back.  Dreading 
less  to  face  death  in  the  rushing  waters  than  to  risk 
being  taken  captive  by  the  soldiers,  who  were  very 
near,  she  strapped  me  on  her  pony  with  the  goods 
and  plunged  into  the  river,  clinging  to  the  pony's 
tail. 

"  The  soldiers  saw  my  brave  young  mother  strug- 
gling with  the  current,  and  to  their  credit  cheered 
her  on  and  fired  no  shots  at  her,  though  many  a 
deadly  weapon  had  been  aimed  at  those  in  the 
canoes. 

"  Before  she  had  gone  far,  my  mother  felt  it  was 
not  safe  to  trust  me  on  the  pony,  so  she  swam 
around  him  and  succeeded  in  unstrapping  me  and 
tying  me  upon  her  own  back. 

"When  about  half-way  across,  the  pony  swam 
into  a  whirlpool  and  went  down  with  all  of  the  pos- 
sessions. Mother  saw  the  danger,  and  avoided  it 
by  swimming  to  one  side. 

"  She  struggled  on  and  on.  She  felt  her  strength 
fast  failing,  and  it  seemed  that  we  must  surely  per- 
ish, but  the  sight  of  friends  upon  the  other  side 
encouraged  her  to  persevere  a  little  longer. 

"  So  she  buffeted  the  waves  and  neared  the  shore 
at  last,  and  then  a  man  swam  out  to  help  her  land. 
But  she  was  so  exhausted  that  the  refugees  were 


226  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

forced  to  hasten  on  without  us,  and  for  ten  days  we 
were  there  alone  in  the  unbroken  wilderness  subsist- 
ing on  wild  onions.  It  was  in  the  summer,  and  we 
did  not  suffer  from  exposure,  though  we  had  no 
blanket  save  the  one  I  had  been  wrapped  in  for  the 
swim." 

"  Did  the  soldiers  capture  you  at  last  ?  "  Piokee 
asked,  intensely  interested  in  the  thrilling  story  of 
this  true  adventure. 

"  No,"  said  Wapaseta ;  "  but  a  band  of  hostile 
Winnebagoes  did,  and  took  us  to  the  Winnebago 
mission  on  the  Yellow  River.  We  were  kindly 
treated,  and  were  soon  released  from  our  captivity, 
as  Black  Hawk  had  been  taken  prisoner  and  there 
was  an  end  to  all  hostilities." 

"  Poor  old  Black  Hawk  !  "  said  Piokee.  "  I've  an 
old,  old  history  of  the  Indian  wars  that  gives  his 
speeches  word  for  word.  In  Congress  Hall  in  Phila- 
delphia, where  he  was  taken  while  on  exhibition  in 
the  East,  he  said  : 

" '  My  heart  grew  bitter  against  the  whites,  and 
my  hands  strong.  I  dug  up  the  tomahawk  and  led 
my  warriors  to  fight.  I  fought  hard.  I  was  no 
coward.  Much  blood  was  shed.  But  the  white 
men  were  mighty.  They  were  like  the  leaves  of 
the  forest.  I  and  my  people  failed.  I  am  sorry  the 
tomahawk  was  raised.  I  have  been  a  prisoner.  I 
see  the  strength  of  the  white  men.  The  Indians  are 


THE   HISTORICAL   BABY.  227 

brave,  but  they  are  few.  While  the  Great  Spirit 
above  keeps  my  heart  as  it  now  is,  I  will  be  the 
white  man's  friend.  I  will  go  to  my  people  and 
speak  good  of  the  white  men.  I  will  fight  no  more 
against  them.'  " 

"  That  was  a  grand  acceptance  of  his  fate,  and  a 
sublime  forgiveness  of  his  enemies,"  said  Wapaseta. 

"His  last  words,"  said  Piokee,  "just  before  he 
died  in  1838,  were  these : 

" '  The  Rock  River  was  a  beautiful  country.  I 
loved  my  cornfields  and  my  home.  I  fought  for  it.' " 

"  Collectively,"  said  Wapaseta  musingly,  "  the 
white  men  are  our  foes,  but  individually  they  are 
our  best  of  friends.  I  have  heard  your  history 
from  Dr.  Whistler,  my  dear,  and  mine  is  very 
similar. 

"  My  mother  lived  among  the  Winnebagoes  sev- 
eral years  before  rejoining  our  tribe,  that  had  been 
driven  westward  into  the  Iowa  country;  but  at  the 
age  of  five  I  was  taken  to  Fort  Crawford  in  Wiscon- 
sin, by  an  army  officer  stationed  there. 

"  I  have  a  tender  recollection  of  the  lovely  pale- 
faced  lady  of  the  Post,  the  officer's  wife,  who  cared 
for  me  as  for  her  own  young  child.  But  she  died 
within  a  few  months,  and  I  went  to  live  with  other 
white  friends  who  were  wondrously  kind  to  me.  I 
was  sent  to  school,  and  passed  a  care-free,  happy 
girlhood." 


228  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  How  the  brave  young  mother  must  have  missed 
you!  "  said  Piokee.  "  Did  you  ever  meet  again ?  " 

"After  fourteen  years,"  said  Wapaseta.  "She 
had  then  removed  to  Kansas  with  the  tribe,  and 
from  there  she  started  out  to  search  for  me.  She 
found  me  living  in  Galena,  Illinois.  You  may  know 
it  was  a  joyful  reunion.  She  was  married  to  a  white 
interpreter,  and  had  become  a  civilized  Christian 
woman." 

While  listening  to  Wapaseta's  interesting  talk 
Piokee' s  thoughts  went  straying  after  Chipmunk 
every  now  and  then.  She  was  sitting  by  a  window, 
and  could  see  some  way  along  the  road  leading  from 
the  Agency. 

All  at  once  she  gave  a  quick,  glad  cry,  and  darted 
from  the  house,  without  so  much  as  an  "excuse  me," 
in  her  eager  haste. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A   NEW   FEIEND. 

SHE  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  Dr.  Whistler  coming 
at  a  brisk  pace,,  leading  Chipmunk. 

In  a  perfect  frenzy  of  delight  she  rushed  into  the 
road  and  flung  herself  upon  the  pony's  neck  before 
his  graceful  trot  had  subsided  at  the  gate. 

"  Oh  !  you  pretty,  precious  little  dear.  You  have 
come  back  to  me,"  she  cried.  "My  good,  kind, 
powerful  chief,  who  can  do  anything  and  every- 
thing he  undertakes,  has  brought  you  back.  And 
is  he  truly  mine  again?"  she  asked,  lifting  up  her 
grateful,  glowing  face  to  Dr.  Whistler,  as  he  lin- 
gered in  the  saddle  to  enjoy  the  scene. 

"  Very  truly  yours,"  smiled  he.  "  You  need  not 
fear  another  separation." 

"Father  hadn't  sold  him,  I  suppose.  But  how 
did  you  get  him  back?"  she  wondered. 

"  I  found  him  in  the  street,  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  warm  admirers.  He  had  not  been  sold,  although 


230  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

a  bargain  with  a  trader  from  the  Pawnee  Nation 
was  in  prospect." 

"  Oh !  if  Chipmunk  had  been  taken  off  among 
the  Pawnees  I  should  never  have  set  my  eyes  on 
him  again,"  exclaimed  Piokee,  with  another  fervent 
hug.  "You  talked  to  father  and  induced  him  to 
throw  up  the  bargain,  didn't  you?" 

"I  had  a  private  interview  with  him,"  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  "after  which  he  put  his  mark  upon  a 
paper  giving  you  entire  control  of  Chipmunk.  As 
you  are  a  minor  you  can  own  no  property  unless 
your  father  signs  a  paper  to  the  contrary." 

"  How  easily  he  was  persuaded,"  said  Piokee. 
"But  I  don't  believe  there  is  another  man  alive 
who  could  have  talked  him  into  it  —  and  he  so 
anxious  for  the  war-gun,  too." 

Dr.  Whistler  suppressed  a  smile,  and  did  not  tell 
her  he  had  paid  more  money  than  the  trader  offered, 
to  persuade  her  father  to  give  up  the  pony,  and  to 
sign  the  bill  of  sale  in  favor  of  Piokee. 

Fully  satisfied  to  get  the  gun  without  the  sacrifice 
of  Chipmunk,  Cold  Blast  readily  agreed  to  keep  the 
trade  a  secret,  Dr.  Whistler  knowing  it  would  mar 
Piokee's  joy  in  the  recovery  of  her  pony  should  she 
understand  the  whole  affair. 

The  stolid  father  had  a  grain  of  conscience  when 
it  came  to  such  high-handed  robbery  of  his  daughter 
as  he  had  attempted  in  the  seizure  of  her  pony. 


A   NEW   FRIEND.  231 

"  Now  that  all  is  settled  to  our  satisfaction,  I  must 
cruelly  cut  off  those  fond  embraces,"  he  observed, 
"  and  hustle  you  into  the  house  to  don  your  wraps. 
Your  father  will  not  start  for  home  till  afternoon,  if 
he  decides  to  go  to-day,  and  I  wish  to  take  you  on 
a  visit  to  the  school  just  over  there." 

"That  will  be  delightful,"  said  Piokee.  "After 
all  my  agony  of  yesterday,  I'm  simply  out  on  a 
pleasure  trip.  I've  had  a  lovely  time  with  Wapa- 
seta,  who  is  just  the  sweetest  red-brown  lady  in  the 
land,  and  now  if  I  could  meet  Miss  Harriet  —  but  of 
course  there'll  be  no  time  for  calling  at  the  agent's 
—  I  should  be  so  happy  I  could  fly." 

Dr.  Whistler  looked  mysterious,  but  made  no 
answer. 

Having  partially  explained  to  Wapaseta  her  sud- 
den rush  to  Chipmunk,  with  daughterly  excuses  for 
her  father,  Piokee  took  leave  of  her  interesting 
hostess,  and  was  quickly  on  the  way  to  school  with 
Dr.  Whistler. 

Very  soon  they  stopped  before  the  roomy  building 
in  a  natural  grove  of  fine  old  trees  wherein  the 
school  and  boarding-house  were  carried  on. 

Passing  through  a  hall,  Dr.  Whistler  gave  a  light 
tap  on  a  door  behind  which  could  be  heard  the  hum 
of  voices  in  the  schoolroom.  It  was  opened  by  a 
rather  tall  young  lady  with  a  wealth  of  lustrous  hair 
of  golden  brown,  and  eyes  so  brightly  blue,  so  wide 


232  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

awake  and  full  of  interest  in  all  creation,  one  would 
naturally  wonder  how  they  ever  ceased  from  taking 
observations  long  enough  to  snatch  a  wink  of  sleep. 
She  had  a  fine,  straight  form,  and  strong  white 
hands  that  instantly  went  out  to  clasp  Piokee's 
slender  brown  ones  when  the  girl  had  shaken  hands 
with  Dr.  Whistler. 

"You  needn't  introduce  us,  Doctor,  for  I  know 
just  who  it  is,"  she  smilingly  exclaimed.  "  I  am  as 
sure  of  her  as  if  I'd  seen  her  photograph.  Now, 
Doctor,  if  you  are  opposed  to  kissing  you  may  turn 
your  back,  for  I  must  measure  off  three  yards  of 
tape  with  this  brave  little  girl  —  one  for  Miss  Pris- 
cilla,  one  for  Floy,  as  they  requested  in  their  letters, 
and  the  last  one  for  myself." 

Then  Piokee  knew  it  was  Miss  Harriet  who  was 
giving  her  three  kisses. 

"I  have  left  a  class,"  Miss  Harriet  said,  "with 
hands  up  to  inform  me  they  know  the  difference  be- 
tween the  way  to  spell  cat  and  the  hat  that  puss  has 
on ;  so  do  come  in  and  take  seats  on  the  platform." 

Miss  Harriet  taught  the  primary  room,  wrhose  pu- 
pils were  of  different  ages,  from  the  child  of  seven 
to  well-grown  girls  and  boys. 

"  The  younger  we  can  get  them  into  school,  the 
easier  it  is  for  them  to  learn  our  ways,"  she  said 
aside  to  Dr.  Whistler  and  Piokee. 

"Have   you   learned  Sac  and  Fox,  and  do  you 


A   NEW    FKIEND.  233 

speak  to  them  in  that,  to  make  them  understand 
before  they  know  a  bit  of  English?"  asked  Piokee. 

"  I  know  some  Indian,  but  I  never  speak  it  in  the 
schoolroom,"  said  Miss  Harriet.  "  It  is  English  from 
the  very  start.  I  begin  with  simple  object  lessons 
of  one  word,  which  I  illustrate  on  the  board." 

"  For  instance,  Miss  Puss  in  her  fine  new  hat," 
said  Dr.  Whistler,  with  an  appreciative  smile. 

Miss  Harriet  was  a  crayon  artist  of  a  very  sprightly 
turn,  which  added  vastly  to  her  marked  success  in 
teaching  Indian  children.  She  had  drawn  the  pict- 
ure of  a  vain  cat  strutting  on  the  blackboard,  with 
a  stunning  hat  embellishing  her  head.  In  this 
amusing  lesson  she  impressed  the  class  with  three 
words  —  cat,  hat  and  on. 

"  The  bright  ones  soon  pick  up  a  small  vocabu- 
lary of  our  words,"  Miss  Harriet  remarked.  "  Some 
of  them  are  speaking  English  so  that  I  can  under- 
stand them  in  a  few  weeks.  Others  will  hold  back 
for  months." 

When  the  class  before  the  blackboard  had  re- 
viewed the  three  words  hinging  on  Miss  Puss,  hav- 
ing spelled  them  all  around  and  then  in  concert, 
with  a  few  clever  strokes  of  her  expressive  chalk 
Miss  Harriet  caused  a  dandified  young  cat  with 
derby  hat  to  meet  Miss  Puss  in  her  perambulations. 

"  I  shall  leave  the  pictures  there  this  afternoon," 
said  she,  "  so  that  the  pupils  may  become  familiar 


234  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

with  the  new  one.  To-morrow  Mr.  Puss  will  raise 
his  hat  to  Miss  Puss,  and  f  hat  off '  will  be  the  lesson." 

Piokee  wished  that  Up  were  there  to  see  all  this. 
It  could  not  help  impressing  him,  she  thought,  look- 
ing at  the  rows  of  quiet  little  red  men,  working  on 
their  slates  with  patient  industry. 

Strange  to  say,  Up  was  there,  precisely  as  she 
wished.  Moved  by  curiosity,  he  had  followed  Dr. 
Whistler  at  a  distance  when  he  led  the  pony  from 
the  Agency  to  Wapaseta's  house.  He  had  seen  Pio- 
kee and  her  escort  going  to  the  school,  had  lurked 
behind  them  and  had  ridden  very  near  a  window, 
where  he  sat  upon  his  pony,  peering  through  a  half- 
closed  blind,  taking  in  the  scene,  pussy  cats  and  all. 

When  the  noon  bell  sounded  in  the  hall,  off  he 
raced  at  pell-mell  speed.  Up,  the  small  barbarian, 
had  really  been  to  school,  but  he  had  left  Piokee 
not  a  whit  the  wiser  for  it. 

"I  don't  go  home  at  noon,  as  there  is  but  an 
hour's  intermission,"  said  Miss  Harriet.  "  I  often 
bring  a  lunch,  but  I  shall  join  the  pupils  in  the  din- 
ing-room to-day.  Our  school-family  have  a  plain, 
but  wholesome  meal  they  would  be  pleased  to  have 
you  share.  By  all  means  you  must  stay  and  see 
how  well  they  fare. 

The  visitors  were  glad  to  spend  the  noon  hour  at 
the  school,  instead  of  dining  at  the  Agency  hotel, 
as  Dr.  Whistler  had  intended, 


A    NEW   FKIEND.  235 

The  pupils  marched  in  orderly  files  into  the  din- 
ing-room, the  girls  in  calico  frocks  of  uniform  ma- 
terial, the  boys  in  sturdy  suits  of  rough  dark  cloth. 

There  was  a  seamstress  at  this  Government  school, 
who  made  the  pupils'  clothes,  Miss  Harriet  informed 
her  guests. 

"  But  oh !  who  does  the  mending  ?  "  said  Piokee. 
"  Do  the  boys  all  fall  to  pieces  just  as  if  their  clothes 
were  made  of  cobwebs  ?  "  glancing  at  the  tidy  young- 
sters, swallowing  with  healthy  zest  their  mashed 
potato,  graham  bread  and  beef  stew  while  they 
gloated  on  the  coming  gingerbread,  and  seeing  in 
her  mind's  eye  Up's  new  garments  thick  with  patches. 

"  They  are  apt  to,"  said  Miss  Harriet,  "  especially 
the  new  boys  that  have  never  thought  of  taking 
care  of  what  they  wear.  The  girls  are  taught  to 
help  the  seamstress  with  the  mending,  and  you'd 
be  surprised  to  see  how  patiently  they  darn  and 
patch  when  they  are  longing  to  be  out  at  play.  We 
mean  to  try  a  novel  plan  and  let  each  girl  select  a 
boy  to  mend  for  through  the  month.  We're  curious 
to  see  which  boy  will  be  best  taken  care  of  by  his 
little  maid." 

"  If  there's  a  drone  among  the  boys,  that  is  averse 
to  violent  exercise,  you'll  find  the  girls  all  drawing 
lots  for  him,"  said  Dr.  Whistler. 

"  That  applies  to  Tommy  Pigsfoot,"  laughed  Miss 
Harriet.  "  He  drops  down  anywhere  and  curls  up 


236  PIOKEE    AND    HEK    PEOPLE. 

like  a  dormouse  fast  asleep,  while  all  the  other  boys 
are  playing  harum-scarum  games.  Of  course  he 
seldom  needs  a  '  stitch  in  time.'  " 

So  great  were  the  attractions  of  the  Agency  that 
Cold  Blast  could  not  tear  himself  away  that  after- 
noon. There  was  a  shooting  match,  in  which  he 
joined  to  win  the  can  of  powder  offered  as  the  first 
prize,  to  Piokee's  sore  dismay,  for  she  was  always  in 
a  tremble  lest  the  hut  be  blown  to  atoms  by  the  big 
supply  of  ammunition  stowed  away  therein. 

But  by  the  shooting  match  she  was  enabled  to 
accept  Miss  Harriet's  urgent  invitation  and  enjoy  a 
visit  at  the  agent's  house.  On  finding  that  her 
father  would  not  leave  for  home  that  afternoon,  she 
said  good-by  to  Dr.  Whistler  on  the  street,  went 
back  to  school,  and  all  that  afternoon  and  evening 
was  one  supremely  happy  girl. 

The  great  brick  house  was  all  aglow  with  light 
and  warmth  and  gayety  that  night,  the  agent  and 
Miss  Harriet's  mother  joining  in  amusing  games 
with  interest  equal  to  Miss  Harriet  and  Piokee's. 

"Our  daughter  has  no  young  associates  down 
here  to  keep  her  lively,"  said  the  agent  to  the  mer- 
rily demure  young  guest  who  held  her  own  with 
quiet  ease  and  charmed  the  family  with  her  bright- 
ness. "  There  is  danger  of  her  growing  old  before 
her  time,  so  we  two  parents  try  to  keep  ourselves 
in  juvenile  trim  to  hold  her  back.  Mother  is  about 


A    NEW    FKIEND.  237 

the  age  of  Harriet,  or  perhaps  a  little  younger,  and 
I  am  quite  a  boy  in  all  respects  except  my  grizzly 
gray  beard.  It's  all  on  her  account  —  this  unbe- 
coming lack  of  dignity,"  he  added,  passing  round 
the  slips  of  paper  for  the  game  of  telegrams  they 
were  about  to  play. 

"  On  my  account !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Harriet  with 
a  mirthful  laugh.  "  Just  as  if  you  wouldn't  be  a 
grizzly  gray-bearded  boy  if  you  hadn't  any  serious- 
minded  daughter  for  a  scapegoat.  Why,  Miss  Dew- 
drop,  you  have  no  idea  how  frisky  papa  is  inclined 
to  be.  I  really  think  he'd  turn  a  somerset  if  I  didn't 
watch  him  very  closely." 

"Somerset!"  rejoined  the  agent  with  a  sudden 
thought.  "A  whirl,  an  overturn,  a  general  upset- 
ting of  the  equilibrium.  We'll  take  that  as  the  sub- 
ject of  our  telegram,  as  it  is  my  turn  to  choose  one. 
It  will  give  us  good  material  for  some  highly  sea- 
soned press  dispatches  from  the  Territory.  Now, 
then,  we  have  chosen  our  ten  letters  and  we've  just 
five  minutes  to  compose  the  telegrams.  We  must 
send  them  with  a  whizz  to  reach  the  editor  before 
the  paper  goes  to  press  at  midnight.  One,  two, 
three  —  proceed!"  he  gave  the  word  and  laid  his 
watch  upon  the  table. 

Ten  different  letters  had  been  chosen  at  a  random 
dash,  the  placers  each  contributing  a  letter  round 
the  circle  till  the  list  was  made.  X  and  Y  were  laid 


238  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

upon  the  shelf  as  sticklers  that  would  better  be 
avoided.  The  letters  stood  as  follows : 

ITMOCADSVB. 

When  the  time  was  up  Miss  Harriet  led  off  with 
startling  headlines  she  had  strung  together  in  three 
minutes. 

"  Indians  Topsy-turvy.  Messiah  Outbreak.  Cor- 
ageous  Agent  Defies  Scalpers.  Victoriously  Bald- 
headed." 

"  Pardon  my  allusion  to  your  one  infirmity,  papa," 
she  said,  arising  from  her  chair  to  pat  the  bald  spot 
where  the  agent's  scalp-lock  used  to  be. 

Next  came  the  agent's  bit  of  information  as  to 
what  was  happening  in  the  Territory  : 

"  Indescribable  Tornado.  Monstrous  Overturn. 
Calf  Astride  Donkey  Stable.  Vociferously  Elating." 

"  Then  he  was  alive  for  all  his  fearful  boost,"  ob- 
served Miss  Harriet.  "Did  they  take  him  down 
with  pulleys  ?  "  she  inquired  with  interest. 

"History  doesn't  say,  but  I'm  inclined  to  think 
they  waited  for  another  little  breeze  to  come  along 
next  day  and  whisk  him  back  into  his  pasture,"  was 
the  agent's  pleasant  satire  on  the  windy  region 
where  his  lines  were  cast. 

Miss  Harriet's  mother  thus  described  a  little  skirm- 
ish on  the  edge  of  No  Man's  Land  : 

"  Ignorant  Tenderfoot  Mimics  Oklahoma  Cowboy. 
A  Decided  Set-to.  Violator  Bandaged." 


A   NEW    FRIEND.  239 

"  Those  cowboys  can't  be  imitated  with  success," 
remarked  the  agent.  "  They  defend  the  right  to  their 
originality,  though  mustard  plasters  be  the  upshot. 
Now,  Miss  Dewdrop,  what  surprising  news  have  you 
with  which  to  stun  the  public  ?  " 

"  I  have  only  two  scraps  with  a  space  between.  I 
couldn't  hit  upon  the  other  words,"  Piokee  said,  and 
read  with  some  reluctance  : 

"  Inverted  Turnips  Misgrowing  On  Claim,  .  .  . 
Drouthy  Soil.  .  .  ." 

Piokee's  broken  headlines  raised  a  shout. 

"  I've  heard  of  various  freaks  of  vegetation  owing 
to  these  Territory  droughts,"  observed  the  agent, 
"  but  I  never  apprehended  the  condition  of  affairs 
described  in  Hafed's  Dream.  You  might  have 
spoken  of  the  alkali  connected  with  the  droughty 
soil  and  wound  up  by  alluding  to  the  victimized 
boomers." 

"  I  thought  the  telegram  didn't  need  to  be  the 
least  bit  probable,"  Piokee  artlessly  remarked. 

This  sent  the  agent  off  into  another  gale  of  laugh- 
ter. "  Sure  enough  !  the  more  improbable,  the  betr 
ter  it  will  suit  the  credulous  public,"  he  replied. 

The  happiest  hour  of  all  was  passed  before  the 
glowing  grate  fire  in  Miss  Harriet's  pretty  chamber 
later  in  the  evening.  There  Piokee  told  her  new 
friend  of  her  missionary  plans,  and  of  her  earnest 
wish  to  start  the  little  class. 


240  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"I  wish  you  might,'*  Miss  Harriet  said,  "  but,  oh! 
my  dear,  do  you  suppose  it  would  be  possible  with- 
out a  settled  income,  and  with  nothing  but  a  tent 
to  work  in  ?  " 

"  Why,"  Piokee  said,  "  there  are  so  many  things 
that  can  be  done  without  a  settled  income.  And  I 
can't  imagine  any  situation  in  the  whole  wide  world 
where  people  shouldn't  do  their  little  best  for  those 
within  their  reach,  even  if  they've  nothing  but  a 
tent  or  dugout  for  a  working  place." 

"You'll  do  for  all  emergencies,"  Miss  Harriet  re- 
sponded, and  the  strong  white  hand  reached  out  to 
give  the  little  brown  one  a  commending  clasp. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   TRIMLY-APRONED   MAIDS. 

WHAT  witchery  did  the  civilized  daughter  ex- 
ercise on  the  barbarous  father  to  convince 
him  that  the  little  school  and  cooking-class  were 
but  a  natural  sequence  to  the  new,  strange  order  of 
affairs  her  coming  to  the  hut  had  brought  about? 

Perhaps  she  never  would  have  dared  to  push  the 
project  if  her  father  had  not  been  already  so  be- 
guiled by  this  same  witchery  that  he  was  led  to 
shed  the  crippled  dolls,  to  don  the  cap  and  coat,  to 
rise  from  lolling  on  the  floor  into  a  chair  while 
smoking  by  the  fire,  and  better  still,  to  draw  up  to 
the  table  for  his  meals,  instead  of  squatting  by  the 
kettle  on  the  hearth. 

That  the  red  Messiah  had  not  appeared,  according 
to  the  prophets,  to  inflict  judgment  on  the  vacilla- 
ting Indians  who  had  hobnobed  with  the  white  man's 
ways,  may  have  had  some  weight  in  causing  Cold 
Blast  to  withdraw  his  ban  against  the  school. 

241 


242  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

At  all  events,  he  had  set  up  the  tent  above  the 
stump  close  by  the  house  —  so  close  it  served  the 
purpose  of  a  kitchen  where  the  cooking  for  the  fam- 
ily was  also  done,  with  the  new  stove  which,  till 
now,  had  not  been  used. 

Wak-wak  and  three  other  girls  had  been  so  capti- 
vated by  Piokee  at  the  pecan  camp  that  they  were 
moved  to  take  a  wondering  interest  in  the  school. 
Piokee  had  explained  it  through  her  mother  as  in- 
terpreter, while  calling  on  the  girls  in  their  tepees, 
soon  after  the  return  from  camp,  urging  them  more 
earnestly  to  join  the  class  when  they  returned  her 
visit  in  a  bevy  of  all  four  next  day,  and  kept  on 
coming  almost  every  day  thereafter. 

The  little  tiff  between  the  two  sires,  which  had 
led  to  the  supplying  of  unthought-of  comforts  for 
their  families,  had  not  affected  Wak-wak's  warm 
devotion  for  Piokee,  nor  did  Sire  Sixkiller  venture 
to  forbid  her  joining  the  class. 

Wak-wak  was  an  only  daughter,  and  much  petted 
in  a  way  peculiar  to  a  doting  Indian  father.  Hence 
it  is  quite  probable  that  though  as  harmless  as  a 
kitten  in  Piokee's  estimation,  Wak-wak  had  some 
hidden  claws  with  which  she  would  have  scratched 
at  opposition,  and  compelled  her  sire  to  leave  her 
to  the  workings  of  her  own  sweet  will. 

And  thus,  so  soon,  Piokee  had  her  row  of  dusky, 
trimly-aproned  maids  attempting  appetizing  cookery, 


THE   TRIMLY-APRONED   MAIDS.  243 

with  Fauqua  and  the  little  sister  likewise  merged  in 
the  experiment. 

For  the  cooking  costume  she  had  bought  some 
cheap  but  pretty  flowered  calico,  with  money  from 
her  own  purse,  when  she  went  in  quest  of  Chip- 
munk to  the  Agency. 

Having  faith  that  what  she  was  resolved  to  bring 
about  would  happen  in  due  time,  she  set  the  bevy, 
when  they  came  a-visiting,  to  sewing  on  their 
aprons,  caps  and  sleeves,  and  was  rejoiced  to  find 
that  they  could  ply  the  needle,  on  plain  work,  as 
well  as  she  herself. 

The  cooking  costume  was  an  easy  matter,  but  the 
appetizing  dinner,  which  the  class  must  cook  five 
times  a  week  to  make  the  project  a  success,  was  far 
more  serious  to  contemplate. 

One  bright  morning  Dr.  Whistler  pulled  the  latch- 
string,  so  to  speak,  and  walked  into  the  fresh-air 
schoolroom,  where  he  found  the  atmosphere  so  tem- 
pered by  the  crackling  fire  beneath  the  pots  and 
kettles  simmering  on  the  new  stove,  that  it  was 
quite  warm  enough  for  ruddy  health. 

The  four  girls,  Wak-wak,  Cepo,  Annamosa  and 
Wanisa  sat  about  the  table  borrowed  from  the  hut, 
sorting  beans  that  would  have  tried  the  patience  of 
a  saint,  so  mixed  were  they  with  chaff  and  pebbles. 
Fauqua  occupied  the  stump,  with  Nanno  on  a  box  at 
her  feet,  both  likewise  wrestling  with  the  beans. 


244  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"Evaporated  apple  dumplings  —  and  they  seem 
to  be  behaving  beautifully,"  Piokee  smilingly  an- 
nounced, as  Dr.  Whistler  approached  the  stove  and 
let  his  eyes  alight  on  a  mysterious  kettle  with  ex- 
cusable curiosity.  "  If  you  will  promise  not  to  scare 
them  into  falling  flatter  than  a  pancake  you  may 
take  one  peep  at  them,"  she  added,  lifting  the  cover, 
while  he  stooped  and  peered  into  the  kettle. 

The  class  had  taken  turns  in  scouring  an  old  tin 
pan,  just  round  and  deep  enough  to  fit  into  the 
kettle.  After  they  could  see  their  faces  in  the  pan 
they  punched  the  sides  and  bottom  full  of  nail-holes, 
and  behold  a  steamer  filled  with  roly-poly  puffs  like 
snowballs,  resting  in  the  kettle  with  the  boiling 
water  underneath. 

"  Of  course  you  smell  baked  beans,"  Piokee 
placidly  continued,  opening  the  oven  door  to  show 
the  contents  of  a  porcelain  kettle,  which  her  father's 
wild  extravagance,  resulting  from  the  tiff,  had  led 
him  into  buying.  "  They  are  some  of  those  dis- 
couraging little  beans  the  class  are  picking  over 
now.  Wak-wak  brought  them  on  her  back  —  a 
whole  half-bushel  in  a  bag.  They  are  real  Sixkiller 
beans  —  Wak-wak  helped  to  raise  them,  and  she's 
just  found  out  they  needed  to  be  winnowed  and 
kept  free  from  sand  and  pebbles.  But  I've  great 
respect  for  Wak-wak's  beans,  because  they're  spared 
by  those  who  haven't  much  to  eat  themselves. 


THE    TRIMLY-APRONED   MAIDS.  245 

"  To-morrow  we  shall  have  browned  parsnips  and 
sliced  bacon,  with  some  good  wide  streaks  of  lean 
all  through  it,  broiled  above  the  coals  till  it  is  crisp. 
Annamosa  brought  the  parsnips  —  they  were  buried 
in  her  garden  —  and  Wanisa  brought  the  bacon. 
Though  I  wouldn't  have  her  know  it  for  the  world, 
I  shall  throw  away  the  outside,  to  be  sure  that  what 
we  eat  is  very  clean. 

"  Now  you  must  be  wondering  how  the  beans  are 
far  enough  along  to  smell  so  good  when  the  little 
clock  Aunt  Abigail  sent  me  says  it's  only  half-past 
ten,"  she  chattered  on,  while  Dr.  Whistler  stood,  a 
most  attentive  listener.  "  We  began  them  yes- 
terday, and  they  have  baked  five  hours  already. 
They'll  be  done  exactly  to  a  turn  by  noon,  and  you 
must  stay  to  dinner  and  approve  the  cooks." 

"I  would  be  most  happy  if  I  Could,"  said  he. 
"I'm  strongly  tempted  by  these  appetizing  sights 
and  smells,  but  I  must  be  some  miles  away  by  din- 
ner time.  How  far  into  the  mystery  of  the  dump- 
lings and  the  baked  beans  have  the  class  progressed  ?  " 
he  asked,  with  interest. 

"I'm  not  so  sure  about  the  dumplings,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  in  fact,  I  fear  the  class  would  make  a  mess 
of  them  the  first  time  trying ;  even  mother,  though 
it  is  a  perfect  wonder  how  she  catches  new  ideas. 
But  the  beans  —  I  think  they  would  remember 
—  all  but  one  or  two,  at  least  —  to  wash  them 


246  PIOKEE    AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

thoroughly,  and  boil  them  till  their  skins  would 
burst,  if  they  should  blow  them  —  not  a  minute 
longer.  I  do  hope  they'd  think  to  put  a  pinch  of 
soda  in  the  water  that  the  beans  were  boiled  in,  and 
to  drain  this  water  off  and  add  new  water  and  a 
spoonful  of  molasses  to  the  beans  before  they  went 
into  the  oven." 

"  Do  you  treat  baked  beans  that  way  ?  "  said  Dr. 
Whistler,  looking  dazed.  "  If  I  were  one  of  those 
girls  or  your  mother,  I'm  afraid  I  shouldn't  think  to 
put  a  spoonful  of  molasses  in  the  water  that  the 
beans  were  boiled  in,  and  should  quite  forget  to 
bake  them  only  till  their  skins  would  burst." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Piokee,  laughing  merrily.  "  Do 
tell  the  class  you  think  the  beans  are  boiled  in  sweet- 
ened water,  and  are  only  baked  until  their  skins  are 
ready  to  crack  open.  Ask  them  if  that's  right  or 
wrong." 

"I  must  have  made  a  blunder,"  he  responded, 
more  and  more  bewildered ;  "  but  I'll  lay  the  whole 
affair  before  the  class." 

He  asked  the  question  in  the  language  of  the 
tribe.  Fauqua  and  the  girls  intently  thought  a 
minute,  then  a  slow  smile  answered  from  four  faces, 
only  Cepo  showing  by  her  puzzled  manner  that  her 
memory  had  failed  to  grasp  the  lesson.  With  a 
gleam  of  white  teeth  Wak-wak  pointed  to  the  oven, 
and  began  to  chew  her  finger  ruefully,  to  show  that 


THE   TKIMLY-APKONED   MAIDS.  247 

she  would  be  most  loth  to  eat  the  beans  that  might 
be  cooked  by  Dr.  Whistler's  receipt. 

"  There,  we  wTon't  laugh  at  you  another  bit," 
Piokee  promised,  growing  serious.  "I  was  going 
to  tell  you  how  to  make .  a  lovely  dumpling  sauce 
from  almost  nothing,  but  on  second  thought  I'll  let 
your  memory  rest  for  more  important  things." 

"  How  about  the  dinner  for  four  girls  five  times 
a  wreek,  if  I  may  ask  ?  "  said  Dr.  Whistler.  "  Can 
they  supply  their  share  of  what  it  will  require  to 
run  the  cooking  class?"  With  all  his  haste  he 
took  the  chair  Piokee  urged  him  to  accept,  while 
she  sat  down  upon  the  roomy  stump,  back  to  back 
with  Fauqua.  The  serious  faces  of  the  class  were 
•bent  above  the  beans,  which  they  were  sorting  with 
the  greatest  patience. 

"  I  don't  expect  it,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  shall  en- 
courage them  to  do  as  much  as  possible  to  make 
them  independent.  They  may  bring  some  game 
this  winter  and  some  garden  stuff  next  spring,  but 
there  are  all  the  groceries  to  be  bought.  Father'll 
have  to  run  in  debt  for  everything  he  buys  to  eat 
until  he  draws  his  head-right  in  the  spring,  and  then 
when  all  the  debts  are  paid  there  will  be  nothing 
left  to  take  us  through  the  other  half-year.  So  I 
can't  depend  on  him  to  help  the  class  a  single 
spoonful. 

"  Mamma  Prairie  and  Aunt  Abigail  sent  a  box  of 


248  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

groceries  which  will  last  the  class  some  time,  though 
maybe  it  is  very  reckless  not  to  save  them  for  our 
family  alone.  Then  Mamma  Prairie  wrote  that  she 
would  send  me  an  allowance  of  eight  dollars  every 
month  by  way  of  you,  with  which  I  hope  to  manage 
for  the  rest.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  those  two  boxes 
—  with  all  else  they  brought  us,  all  we  need  to  set 
the  table  —  and  that  beautiful  allowance,  I  should 
not  have  dared  to  start  the  school,  as  much  as  I 
have  dreamed  and  talked  of  it." 

"  You've  made  a  good  beginning,  but  I  think  you 
need  a  partner  to  attend  to  some  small  business 
matters  while  you  superintend  the  cooking  and  the 
object  lessons,"  Dr.  Whistler  responded,  looking 
round  to  note  a  general  scarcity  of  furniture. 

The  cooking-table  was  of  two  wide  boards  that 
had  been  dragged  from  underneath  the  hut,  and 
scoured  with  desperate  ardor,  after  which  they  had 
been  nailed  together  with  two  cleats  and  propped 
on  barrels  for  support.  The  barrels  had  been 
scrubbed  inside  and  out,  and  served  the  purpose  of 
a  missionary  cupboard,  in  two  parts.  Wak-wak 
faced  the  situation,  seated  on  a  headless  keg,  Wa- 
nisa  on  a  tottering  three-legged  stool,  which  they 
had  brought  from  home. 

• "  I  suppose  you  have  been  robbing  Peter  to  pay 
Paul,  by  bringing  from  the  hut  the  table  and  these 
chairs,"  pursued  he. 


THE    TKIMLY-APKONED    MAIDS.  251 

There  were  three  chairs  in  the  tent. 

"  We  had  to,"  said  Piokee  ;  "  but  we  manage  very 
well  when  company  is  scarce.  The  stump  and  keg 
and  stool  are  makeshifts,  which  we  use  when  short 
of  seats.  Sometimes  we  have  the  whole  half-dozen 
chairs,  but  father  had  two  callers  who  came  in  to 
smoke  with  him  this  morning,  so  we  left  three  chairs. 
He's  given  up  the  floor  since  we  have  had  the  chairs, 
and  I'm  afraid  if  he  goes  back  to  it  he'll  never  rise 
again." 

"You  need  a  dining-table  and  some  schoolroom 
chairs,"  continued  Dr.  Whistler.  "  You  also  lack  a 
cooking-table  and  a  cupboard,  and  some  other  small 
conveniences,  and  you  will  hardly  stand  it  through 
the  winter  in  the  tent  without  a  floor.  Slates  and 
pencils  and  first  readers  are  in  order  in  a  primary 
school.  I  might  supply  these  things  if  you  would 
take  me  as  a  partner." 

"  Oh !  you  are  too  good  to  live,"  exclaimed  Pio- 
kee. "It  would  be  so  perfectly  delightful,  and 
there  wouldn't  be  another  thing  to  wish  for.  But  I 
couldn't  let  you,"  was  her  next  thought.  "  No,  in- 
deed —  they  aren't  your  girls,  you  see." 

"  If  they  are  your  girls,  why  shouldn't  they  be 
mine  ?  "  demurred  he,  looking  very  grave.  "  It  isn't 
quite  as  I  anticipated,  to  be  left  outside  of  any  of 
your  plans." 

"  But  you  have  your  boys  and  young  men,  and  so 


252  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

many  of  the  sick  to  do  for,"  she  considered.  "  It 
would  be  sheer  cruelty  to  add  a  cooking  class  to  all 
your  other  cares." 

"  Since  I  am  not  expected  to  remember  the  re- 
ceipts, I  think  I  can  endure  the  rest,"  persisted  he. 
Taking  out  his  memorandum  book  he  made  a  note 
of  what  was  needed  in  the  schoolroom. 

"Well,  if  you  must  be  so  generous,"  said  she, 
"  please  have  the  cupboard  and  the  floor  and  tables 
made  of  white  pine.  That  is  not  so  very  costly, 
and  it  will  show  dirt  the  best." 

"  Will  show  dirt  ? "  he  quizzically  repeated. 
"  Why,  I  thought  that  people  always  wished  that 
things  would  not  show  dirt." 

"  I  want  the  class  to  go  just  crazy  over  scrubbing," 
she  explained.  "  If  I  should  spend  whole  months 
and  teach  them  nothing  but  to  fairly  dote  on  soap 
and  water  I  should  think  it  was  the  grandest  mission 
in  the  world.  Since  you  are  so  resolved  to  help  us, 
you  may  add  three  scrubbing  brushes  to  your  list, 
if  you've  a  mind  to." 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  he  responded. 
"  Will  you  have  a  cow  that  will  need  scrubbing,  too  ? 
I  have  a  gentle  creature  of  pale  yellow  I  would  like 
to  lend  the  class.  I  see  your  father  has  a  pole  and 
brush  shed  newly  built,  in  which  she  might  find 
shelter  writh  the  ponies.  She  would  bring  her  feed, 
a  milk-pail  and  some  pans,  and  I  daresay  a  churn." 


THE    TRIMLY-APRONED    MAIDS.  253 

"  Oh-h  !  "  exclaimed  Piokee,  with  a  quick  ecstatic 
jump  that  made  Wanisa  reel  upon  her  tottering 
stool.  "  A  C-O-W,  spelled  with  three  big  capitals  ! 
And  a  churn  !  Sally  taught  me  how  to  make  good 
butter,  and  I'd  teach  the  class ;  and  we  would  have 
the  skim-milk  and  the  buttermilk,  besides.  Now  we 
needn't  be  so  scrimping  of  the  jar  of  butter  Sally 
sent  me  in  the  box.  We've  scarcely  tasted  it  be- 
cause I  thought  we'd  never  see  another  scrap. 
We've  used  wild  chicken  fat  so  far  for  shortening. 
Mamma  Prairie  taught  me  that  the  fat  of  fowls  does 
very  well  to  cook  with  in  a  pinch,  and  many  people 
use  it  to  save  butter ;  but  of  course  we  couldn't  eat 
it  on  our  bread." 

"  Speaking  of  wild  chickens  makes  me  think  a 
flock  of  tame  ones  wouldn't  come  amiss  with  you," 
said  Dr.  Whistler.  "  They  could  roost  in  one  end 
of  the  shed,  and  I  suppose  the  class  could  use  the 
eggs  they'd  lay." 

Piokee's  face  was  radiant,  but  she  was  silent  for 
at  least  a  quarter  of  a  minute,  filled  with  gratitude 
too  deep  for  utterance. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE    ENTERTAINMENT    COMMITTEE. 

THE  floor  was  laid,  the  roomy  missionary  cupboard 
stood  in  place,  an  ample  table  stretched  its 
length  along  the  floor,  and  there  were  chairs  for  all 
the  class  and  several  for  company.  A  cooking  table 
stood  beside  the  cupboard  and  a  well-filled  chest  of 
flour  and  meal  was  by  the  table.  Buried  in  a  pit 
outside  the  schoolroom  were  potatoes  by  the  bushel, 
in  the  cupboard  were  some  new  laid  eggs  and  shining 
pans  of  cream- topped  milk. 

All  this  the  partner  had  brought  about  within  a 
few  days  after  his  first  visit  to  the  school. 

But  were  the  difficulties  all  surmounted  when  the 
school  was  fairly  underway  with  these  facilities  ? 
Aunt  Abigail  discerned  a  host  of  them,  which  she 
described  in  characteristic  language  in  a  letter  Dr. 
Whistler  dropped  into  Piokee's  hand  one  afternoon 
without  dismounting  from  his  horse.  The  letter 
ran  in  this  way  : 

254 


THE    ENTEKTAINMENT    COMMITTEE.  255 

"  Well,  I  must  say,  iny  dear  Dewdrop,  you  have 
won  the  premium  for  the  best  invention  of  a  laugh- 
able absurdity !  I  should  as  soon  expect  to  hear 
you  had  a  cooking  class  in  a  balloon  as  in  a  wiki-up. 
What  kind  of  dirt  do  you  like  best  in  victuals  cooked 
in  wiki-ups  —  ashes,  sand,  or  hardpan  ?  you  can  have 
your  choice  in  windy  weather." 

"That  is  true,"  laughed  Piokee,  having  read  so 
far  aloud  to  Dr.  Whistler,  whom  she  had  begged  to 
wait  and  hear  the  news  from  home.  "  You'd  think 
there  was  a  mob  of  giants  beating  with  whole  trees 
upon  the  canvas  when  a  furious  wind  is  blowing. 
Yesterday  we  wrapped  a  flour  sack  around  the  churn 
to  keep  the  dust  out,  but  the  butter  is  so  full  of 
specks  we'll  have  to  shut  our  eyes  to  eat  it.  But 
we're  no  worse  off  than  soldiers  on  the  march,  or 
camping  out  in  tents.  I  don't  suppose  they're  fond 
of  sand  in  food,  but  they  swallow  it  courageously,  and 
so  can  we." 

"  '  How  about  the  blizzards  ? '  "  asked  Aunt  Abi- 
gail. " '  Do  your  toast  and  toes  keep  warm  when 
they  are  raging  round  your  cotton  walls  ? ' 

"We  haven't  had  but  one,"  Piokee  said,  "  and 
then  we  huddled  in  the  hut  and  carried  in  a  pot 
of  quail  stew  and  a  lovely  batch  of  Sally  Lunns. 
Father  had  a  smoking  party  crowded  near  t)ie  fire- 
place, and  they  ate  up  every  morsel  of  our  dinner, 
and  we  had  to  shove  the  men  away  and  make  our- 


256  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

selves  some  mush.  That  tasted  of  tobacco  smoke 
and  soot,  and  —  well  we  had  a  fearful  time  all  round 
that  day. 

"How  well  Aunt  Abigail  understands  the  situ- 
ation !  "  she  exclaimed  in  wonder,  after  reading  on 
a  few  lines.  "  Why,  she  even  sees  right  through  the 
very  thing  that  worries  me  the  worst  of  all,  and 
this  is  what  she  says  about  it : 

" i  I  suppose  you're  overrun  with  visitors  who 
straggle  in  with  free  and  easy  sociability  and  stay  to 
dinner,  when  their  names  aren't  in  the  pot  and  you 
are  plagued  to  scare  up  something  to  appease  their 
hunger.' 

"  Yes,"  Piokee  sighed,  "  it's  very  inconvenient, 
having  all  the  mothers,  sisters,  aunts  and  cousins, 
liable  to  drop  in  any  time  for  dinner  when  they're 
least  expected.  Wak-wak  and  the  other  girls  don't 
know  it  isn't  just  the  thing  to  ask  their  friends  to 
come,  and  they  do  take  such  pride  in  showing  off 
what  they  are  learning  here.  The  poor  things  love 
to  stay  to  dinner  and  it  helps  to  spread  the  influence, 
but  it  helps  eat  up  the  groceries  at  a  shocking  rate, 
and  we  can't  possibly  afford  it.  There  is  one  great 
mercy,  though  —  the  men  and  boys  don't  come  into 
the  schoolroom.  I've  been  wondering  why." 

"  The  etiquette  of  our  tribe  forbids  them  to  in- 
trude unless  there  is  a  man  to  entertain  them  or 
they  have  especial  business,"  Dr.  Whistler  explained. 


THE   ENTERTAINMENT    COMMITTEE.  257 

"  The  blanket  Indians  faithfully  observe  this  rule, 
and  are  astounded  that  we  civilized  fellows  dare  to 
break  it  with  impunity." 

"  I'm  glad  they've  one  polite  rule  and  know  how 
to  keep  it,"  said  Piokee.  "  Not  but  that  it  is  polite 
for  you  to  break  it,"  she  excepted  laughingly,  as 
he  threw  down  a  quizzical  smile  at  her.  "  Father 
doesn't  come  into  the  schoolroom  either,  though  of 
course  he  doesn't  mind  the  rule  in  this  case,  as  the 
teacher  is  his  daughter.  I  suppose  he  thinks  it 
quite  beneath  his  dignity  to  notice  us,  but  he  does 
relish  w7hat  we  cook,  immensely.  He  and  Up  have 
just  the  same  for  dinner  that  the  class  have,  though 
they  eat  it  in  the  hut  all  by  themselves.  Up  has  a 
lordly  way  of  seeming  far  above  us,  too,  and  can't 
be  coaxed  into  the  tent  in  school-hours,  but  I  hire 
him  to  write  some  letters  on  his  slate  quite  often  in 
the  hut." 

"  And  what  price  does  the  little  brave  demand  for 
that  amazing  condescension  ? "  Dr.  Whistler  asked. 

"  A  tune  upon  the  violin  for  every  letter  that  he 
writes  six  times.  For  extra  pay  I  dance  the  fun- 
dance,  as  we  call  a  waltz.  He'll  work  away  like 
everything  if  that  is  promised  him." 

"A  case  of  artful  bribery  with  encouraging  re- 
sults," said  Dr.  Whistler,  amused  by  this  ingenious 
method  of  securing  Up's  attention  to  the  printing 
lessons. 


258  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

"  Oh !  what  do  you  think  Aunt  Abigail  says  next  ?  " 
announced  Piokee,  going  on  with  her  perusal  of  the 
letter : 

"  '  But  these  swarms  of  uninvited  guests,  if  such 
there  be,  are  part  and  parcel  of  the  problem,  and 
you  needn't  be  surprised  to  find  the  bunch  of  straws 
you  thought  to  lug  about  so  easily,  a  load  of  iron 
spikes  to  break  your  back. 

"  '  The  gospel  says  "  A  little  leaven  leaveneth  the 
whole  lump,"  and  perhaps  a  lump  of  Indians  at  a 
dinner  party,  with  the  cooking  class  for  leaven, 
might  go  through  the  miracle  of  working  good 
results. 

"  *  But  I  would  have  the  visitors  understand  there 
must  be  certain  days  for  company,  and  they  were 
not  to  be  perpetual  hangers  on  at  other  times.  As 
far  as  possible  the  men  and  boys  should  be  avoided, 
like  the  plague,  for  various  reasons  —  chiefly  their 
prodigious  appetites. 

" '  It  seems  it  will  require  a  syndicate  to  run  this 
cooking  class  of  five  —  or  is  it  six  with  little  Nancy  ? 
Dr.  Whistler,  your  foster-mother  and  myself  appear 
to  be  involved  with  you  in  the  absurd  experiment. 
You  may  make  me  a  committee  on  receptions  if  you 
choose,  and  I  will  add  a  little  entertainment  fund  to 
the  allowance  of  your  foster-mother's,  which  she 
seems  quite  willing  you  should  waste  in  playing 
school  down  there,  if  you  don't  starve  your  stomach 


THE  ENTERTAINMENT  COMMITTEE.      259 

night  and  morning  to  provide  that  missionary  meal 
at  noon.' 

"  Isn't  that  angelic  in  Aunt  Abigail  ?  "  exclaimed 
Piokee.  "  One  would  think  she'd  been  a  blanket 
Indian  herself,  she  is  so  full  of  sympathy  for  them. 
Now  I  needn't  worry  over  every  extra  bite  we  give 
away,  and  we  will  follow  her  advice  and  have  our 
visitors  at  certain  times,  and  try  to  make  them  un- 
derstand they  mustn't  come  when  they  are  not  in- 
vited. And  the  girls,  to  show  what  they  can  do, 
shall  bake  and  broil  and  stew  the  company  dinner 
all  themselves,  though  I  will  have  to  watch  them 
very  closely. 

"  Only  I  do  hope  that  while  the  party  is  in  full 
swing  Wak-wak  won't  persist  in  wiping  dishes  on 
her  apron,  as  she's  very  apt  to  do  if  I  don't  keep  my 
eye  upon  her,  and  that  Cepo  won't  forget  and  put 
her  sister's  papoose  she  so  often  brings  to  school  to 
tend,  into  the  churn  to  keep  it  out  of  mischief,  as 
she  did  the  other  day  when  we  were  scaring  up 
some  dinner  for  a  lot  of  company.  To  make  the 
mishap  worse,  there  was  some  buttermilk  in  the 
churn,  that  Cepo  didn't  notice,  and  in  scurrying 
around  to  help  the  others  set  the  table  Wak-wak  ran 
against  the  churn  and  overturned  it,  and  there  was 
a  very  greasy  papoose  swimming  in  a  frightful 
puddle  on  the  floor." 

"  But  since  it  gave  the  class  a  chance  for  arduous 


260  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

scrubbing  to  remove  the  buttermilk  from  the  floor 
and  the  papoose,  it  must  have  been,  upon  the  whole, 
a  rather  fortunate  mishap,"  smiled  Dr.  Whistler. 

There  was  a  queer  upsetting  of  Piokee's  plans 
about  the  opening  dinner  party.  It  was  not  of 
mothers,  sisters,  aunts  and  cousins  that  had  come 
by  special  invitation.  On  the  other  hand  it  was  a 
most  complete- surprise,  and  of  a  startling  kind. 

The  news  was  brought  up  by  Up  one  day,  pre- 
cisely at  the  noon  hour,  that  the  Mokohokos  were 
approaching  through  the  woods. 

Forgetful  of  his  shyness  in  the  schoolroom,  which 
he  had  been  wont  to  shun  with  studious  care,  he 
burst  into  the  tent  in  breathless  haste  to  pull  Pio- 
kee's sleeve  as  she  was  stirring  the  thickening  into 
rabbit  broth,  and  spring  the  warning  on  the  busy 
teacher  and  her  class. 

"  I  hear.  I  see.  Mokohokos  come.  I  run  pony," 
were  the  words  she  gleaned  from  his  excited  ex- 
clamation, much  of  which  she  could  not  understand. 

The  Mokohokos  were  a  sluggish,  non-progressive 
band  who  lived  a  few  miles  off.  Of  all  the  tribes 
they  were  the  most  opposed  to  schools  and  other 
innovations  tending  to  upset  the  ancient  order  of 
affairs. 

The  class  had  brought  reports  from  time  to  time 
that  there  was  danger  of  the  Mokohokos  coming  to 
suppress  the  school,  but  weeks  had  passed  and  there 


THE   ENTERTAINMENT    COMMITTEE.  261 

had  been  no  hostile  movement,  and  Piokee  had  al- 
most concluded  that  the  rumors  were  a  false  alarm. 
But  now  she  could  not  doubt  that  her  benighted 
neighbors  were  about  to  make  a  visit  of  unfriendly 
import  to  the  school,  for  Up  was  fearfully  in  earn- 
est in  his  efforts  to  impart  the  information  he  had 
gained  while  on  a  scout  of  some  sort  which  had 
thrown  him  on  the  Mokohokos'  track. 

"  Oh  !  they  must  be  very  near,"  exclaimed  she, 
starting  in  alarm.  "  And  father  is  away  from  home. 
What  shall  we  do  ? "  in  doubt  which  way  to  turn. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    MOKOHOKOS. 

^T  GET  war-gun.  They  smash,  I  shoot,"  said 
-L  Fauqua,  rising  to  the  stern  occasion  with  a 
rush  of  Indian  bravery. 

"  No,  no,"  Piokee  hurriedly  replied.  "  We'll  fight 
them  with  the  dinner ;  and  how  fortunate  it  is  all 
ready.  Stop ! "  she  cried,  recovering  her  self-pos- 
session as  Wanisa  was  about  to  plunge  the  books 
and  slates  into  the  flour-bin,  while  Cepo  locked  the 
cupboard  door  and  Wak-wak  snatched  the  pot  of 
rabbit  from  the  stove  to  whisk  it  to  a  place  of 
safety  in  the  brush.  "  Don't  hide  one  thing,  but  do 
exactly  as  I  tell  you." 

All  her  words  the  class  may  not  have  understood, 
though  they  had  made  good  progress  in  their  Eng- 
lish since  the  school  began,  but  they  could  not  mis- 
take her  tone  and  manner  as  she  firmly  shook  her 
head  and  clapped  her  hands  to  check  the  general 
stampede. 

262 


THE   MOKOHOKOS.  263 

She  set  the  pot  of  rabbit  on  the  hearth  to  cool, 
unlocked  the  cupboard  door,  and  heaping  two  large 
plates  with  doughnuts,  placed  them  on  the  table, 
which  was  spread  for  dinner.  Scarcely  had  she 
done  this  when  there  was  a  trampling  of  hoofs,  and 
peering  from  the  door  the  class  espied  six  horsemen 
near  the  tent. 

Fauqua  fell  to  cutting  bread  with  wondrous  speed, 
and  Wak-wak,  with  a  disapproving  frown,  but  with 
swift  hands,  dipped  out  six  bowls  of  broth  and  set 
them  on  the  plates.  Annamosa  scooped  some  baked 
potatoes  from  the  oven,  and  Wanisa  ladled  out  the 
rabbit  on  a  platter.  Nanno  crouched  behind  the 
stump,  too  scared  to  breathe,  and  Up,  half-jubilant 
that  there  was  danger  in  the  air  and  he  had  been 
the  first  to  scent  it,  hung  about  the  door  to  watch 
the  landing  of  the  Mokohokos. 

Presently  they  trailed  into  the  schoolroom,  single 
file,  to  meet  a  smiling  little  hostess  at  the  door,  with 
hand  outstretched  as  if  in  cordial  welcome. 

What  powerful  magnet  was  the  small  soft  hand 
of  this  young  civilized  girl,  to  draw  three  brawny 
fists  from  out  the  blankets  wrapped  about  the  rigid 
braves,  and  open  them  in  a  responsive  handshake  ? 
One  of  those  who  did  not  shake  hands  struggled 
with  an  answering  grunt,  but  two  gave  only  a  for- 
bidding scowl. 

Before  the  squad  could  hardly  cast  their  eyes 


264  PIOKEE    AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

toward  the  tempting  meal,  much  less  begin  a  raid 
on  it  by  force,  Piokee  waved  them  to  the  table, 
pointing  to  the  chairs,  which  they  accepted,  some 
with  grunts  and  some  in  lowering  silence,  and  with- 
out an  instant's  loss  of  time  the  trimly-aproned 
maids,  instructed  by  their  teacher's  nods  and  signs, 
began  to  wait  on  them  with  wariest  attention. 

Lest  the  meal  fall  short  before  the  six  voracious 
appetites  were  appeased,  Piokee  flew  to  mixing  pan- 
cakes—  blessed  makeshift  for  a  scared-up  dinner,  as 
the  class  had  learned.  She  cooked  them  by  the 
dozen  in  two  dripping-pans,  while  Fauqua  stuffed 
in  bark  to  feed  the  fire. 

If  the  Mokohoko  squad  had  never  tasted  butter- 
milk before,  they  drank  it  by  the  quart  that  day. 
True,  it  was  diluted  with  much  water,  which  the 
wily  Wak-wak  dashed  into  it  on  the  sly  to  make  it 
hold  out  to  the  end. 

The  raiders  may  have  been  astonished  at  this 
avalanche  of  hospitality,  but  they  exhibited  no  sign 
of  it  as  they  devoured  their  food  by  ways  and  means 
that  words  would  fail  to  picture.  Heaps  of  pan- 
cakes vanished  with  all  else,  but  in  the  end  the  class 
came  off  victorious  to  the  extent  of  half  a  dozen 
pancakes  and  a  pint  of  the  diluted  buttermilk. 

Piokee's  services  as  cook  no  longer  needed  while 
the  feasting  was  upon  the  wane,  she  rushed  into  the 
hut  and  tuned  her  violin,  and  when  the  Mokohokos 


THE    MOKOHOKOS.  265 

left  their  chairs  she  had  another  kind  of  entertain- 
ment on  the  tapis. 

She  had  trained  the  class  in  some  gymnastics  they 
went  through  with  lively  interest,  accompanied  by 
the  violin.  In  rising  to  their  feet  the  feasters  were 
saluted  by  a  sudden  burst  of  music,  and  beheld  a 
most  bewildering  play  of  arms  and  wag  of  heads. 
Fauqua  acted  with  the  girls,  and  Nanno,  standing 
on  the  stump,  went  through  the  exercise,  though 
trembling  in  her  shoes. 

The  stolid  faces  now  began  to  show  some  wonder 
at  the  strange  performances  of  this  obnoxious  little 
school  whose  fame  had  reached  the  Mokohokos,  and 
had  brought  the  old  chief,  Pawshepaho,  with  five 
leading  men,  upon  a  visit  of  severe  inspection. 

What  to  do  next  was  the  question  in  Piokee's 
mind  all  the  while  the  exercise  was  going  on.  She 
dared  not  rest  from  the  diversions  for  an  instant, 
lest  the  grim  intruders  whom  the  class  had  captured 
so  ingeniously  should  suddenly  bethink  themselves 
to  set  about  the  object  of  their  visit. 

All  at  once  the  G  string  snapped,  and  the  music 
and  gymnastics  came  to  a  precipitate  close. 

Then  Pawshepaho  strode  across  the  floor  and  took 
possession  of  the  violin,  to  curiously  examine  this 
peculiar  instrument,  dependent  on  four  strings  for 
its  bewitching  melody. 

The  curiosity  attacked  the  other  five,  who  crowded 


266  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

round  the  old  chief  to  inspect  the  violin.  One  of 
them  produced  a  shoestring  which  he  gave  to  Paw- 
shepaho,  and  routing  Nanno  from  the  stump,  he 
took  a  seat  thereon  and  gravely  set  to  work  to 
mend  the  broken  string. 

There  was  a  deal  of  tinkering,  then  the  violin 
was  handed  back  to  the  performer  with  the  shoe- 
string stretched  across  the  bridge  and  wound  about 
the  pegs. 

More  music  seemed  to  be  demanded,  and  it  was 
profoundly  evident  that  the  Mokohokos  saw  no 
reason  why  Piokee  could  not  draw  rare  melody 
from  a  shoestring  quite  as  well  as  from  a  silver  wire. 

Here  was  a  dilemma,  but  with  cunning  sleight  of 
hand  Piokee  played  a  lively  little  jig  upon  the  E 
string  only,  flourishing  the  bow  with  all  around 
effect,  and  apparently  performing  on  the  shoestring 
with  the  rest. 

Pawshepaho  gave  a  satisfied  grunt  at  what  he 
deemed  his  marked  success  as  a  repairer  of  the  vio- 
lin, his  comrades  echoing  the  applause  with  similar 
grunts.  The  old  chief's  nephew,  Keoqualk,  who 
had  scowled  ferociously,  refusing  to  shake  hands  on 
entering,  now  muttered  "  Heap  fine,"  as  a  compli- 
ment to  the  coiirageous  innovation  he  had  come  to 
help  suppress. 

In  this  way  did  Piokee  win  the  Mokohokos  to 
approve  the  school,  even  so  completely  that  she 


THE    MOKOHOKOS.  267 

dared  display  the  printing  on  the  slates  and  show 
the  pictures  in  the  new  first  readers. 

When  the  Mokohokos  were  well  out  of  sight,  the 
whole  squad  having  shaken  hands  with  the  entire 
class  in  taking  leave,  Piokee  played  another  jig 
upon  the  E  string,  and  hilariously  danced  to  its 
exultant  strains,  to  thank  Up  for  his  timely  warn- 
ing, which  had  given  her  a  minute  to  prepare  for 
the  reception  of  the  dreaded  guests. 

"  It  looks  as  if  there'd  been  a  whirlwind,"  she  de- 
clared, bringing  up  at  length  against  the  table,  and 
surveying  its  demoralized  condition  with  a  rueful 
glance.  "  They've  soaked  the  tablecloth  with  broth 
and  buttermilk,  and  dear  me !  I  do  wonder  how  they 
broke  two  tumblers  and  a  plate  ?  They've  spilt  the 
salt  and  sugar  and  upset  the  spoons  and  pepper 
boxes,  and  as  I'm  alive,  they've  picked  the  rabbit 
bones  and  flung  them  on  the  floor. 

"  Well,  with  all  the  muss  we've  conquered  them 
and  sent  them  off  in  friendly  humor.  But  we'll 
have  to  cook  ourselves  some  mush  for  dinner,  for 
there  isn't  any  milk  to  make  more  pancakes.  And 
'twill  take  at  least  two  hours,  this  afternoon,  to 
partly  set  ourselves  in  order,  and  to-morrow  what  a 
time  we'll  have  —  washing,  ironing,  scrubbing,  cook- 
ing all  at  once  !  " 

The  winter,  mercifully  short  and  mild  in  this  de- 
lightful semi-southern  latitude,  had  passed  away. 


268  PIOKEE   AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

The  ghost-dance  apparition  which  had  waved  its 
spectral  scalping-knife  along  the  frontier  to  the 
terror  of  white  settlers,  had  vanished  at  the  charge 
of  musketry  at  Wounded  Knee,  and  once  more  had 
the  red  man's  discontented  murmurs  settled  into 
brooding  silence. 

Cold  Blast's  useless  war-gun  stretched  its  length 
along  the  wall  to  point  its  boastful  muzzle  at  Piokee, 
as  she  fancied,  when  she  passed  the  spot  whereon 
it  hung. 

But  where  was  Naopope,  the  young  Messiah  reader 
who  had  left  his  school  to  recklessly  participate  in 
the  ghost-dance  folly?  Though  Piokee  had  not 
breathed  his  name  to  Dr.  Whistler  since  his  stern 
request  that  she  would  never  speak  of  Nuo  in  his 
presence,  often  did  she  wonder  what  had  been  the 
boy's  fate,  and  whether  he  had  found  the  wild  life  so 
completely  to  his  taste  as  he  had  fancied  it  would  be. 

Piokee  and  her  girls  were  on  a  wild  flower  hunt 
one  afternoon.  It  was  a  novel  expedition  to  the 
gypsy  maids.  Like  all  their  race  they  were  ex- 
tremely fond  of  Nature  as  a  whole,  but  they  had 
never  learned  to  note  the  beauty  of  her  separate 
features,  whether  in  the  glowing  sky  at  dawn  or  sun- 
set, in  the  sparkling  streams,  or  on  the  flowery  sod. 

To  stimulate  their  interest,  Piokee  offered  as  a  pre- 
mium to  the  one  whose  nosegay  had  the  best  variety 
of  flowers  a  knot  of  narrow  ribbons,  yellow,  pink 


THE    MOKOHOKOS.  269 

and  green,  with  half  a  dozen  tiny  tinkling  bells  sus- 
pended from  the  streamers.  She  had  found  this 
little  souvenir  with  the  trinkets  wrhich  the  box  had 
brought  her. 

Then  there  was  a  search  indeed.  Dutchman's 
breeches,  crocuses  and  cowslips,  wind-flowers,  vio- 
lets and  hepaticas,  the  starry  bloodroot  blossoms 
and  the  rue-anemone  were  seized  by  eager  hands. 

"Wak-wak  wins  it  by  a  bunch  of  yellow  violets 
that  I  tried  so  hard  to  find  myself,"  announced 
Piokee,  at  the  round-up,  when  the  nosegays  were 
exhibited  for  her  inspection.  Thereupon  she  pinned 
the  prize  on  Wak-wak's  calico  sack.  "Where  did 
you  find  them  ?  They  are  perfect  beauties,  but  I 
thought  they  didn't  grow  down  here,"  she  said,  as 
Wak-wak  proudly  pulled  them  from  the  nosegay 
and  presented  them  to  her. 

"Heap  more  I  find,"  said  Wak-wak,  as  she  gave 
herself  a  shake  to  ring  the  little  bells  triumphantly, 
and  threw  the  other  girls  into  a  fit  of  envious  sulks 
that  showed  Piokee  it  was  most  unwise  to  offer 
prizes  in  the  present  state  of  their  advancement. 

To  ease  their  disappointment,  she  let  down  her 
braid  of  hair  to  give  all  three  of  them  an  amber 
hairpin  for  a  lesser  prize,  and  slipped  a  blue  glass 
button  from  her  pocket  into  Nanno's  hand.  This 
restored  good  humor,  and  the  class  set  out  to  find 
the  yellow  violets  under  Wak-wak's  lead. 


270  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

The  creek  which  wandered  through  the  timber 
had  a  steep  bank  on  the  nearer  side  just  here,  along 
which  ran  a  narrow  shelf  of  rock  some  feet  above 
the  water. 

The  cliff-like  bank  above  the  shelf  was  almost 
bare  of  herbage,  but  in  one  long  narrow  fissure 
where  the  earth  had  lodged,  there  was  a  mass  of 
shrubs  and  flowering  plants.  They  had  attracted 
Wak-wak's  eye  and  led  her  out  upon  the  shelf, 
where,  reaching  up  on  tiptoe,  she  had  plucked  the 
flowers  above  ;  it  was  here  she  had  found  the  violets. 

Piokee  followed  her  along  the  shelf  to  view  the 
wonders  of  this  little  wildwood  garden  in  the  cliff. 
This  done,  she  found  there  was  not  room  to  turn 
round,  and  she  must  follow  Wak-wak  on  still  further, 
where  there  was  a  wider  space  before  an  opening 
in  the  cliff,  and  thence  a  rocky  pathway  up  the  bank. 

The  opening  was  a  cave-like  fissure,  partly  roofed 
with  rock  and  partly  overhung  with  bushes. 

Wak-wak  and  Piokee  tried  to  peer  into  the 
shadowy  grotto,  but  so  dazzled  were  their  eyes  with 
sunshine  that  they  could  see  nothing  for  a  minute. 

All  at  once  they  heard  a  heavy  breathing  from 
within,  and  then  a  low,  strange  sound. 

"  Wolf's  hole,"  surmised  Wak-wak,  thrusting  in 
her  head  with  reckless  curiosity. 

"  Yes,  it  was  a  growl,  I  think.  Let's  hurry,"  said 
Piokee,  seizing  Wak-wak's  hand  to  draw  her  back. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

DEPAKTED  GLORY. 

BUT  just  then  came  another  sound  that  caused 
them  both  to  stop  and  listen  most  intently. 

"  Why,  it  must  be  some  one  in  distress,"  Piokee 
said,  now  very  sure  that  they  were  hearing  groans, 
and  not  the  growls  of  some  wild  animal. 

Wak-wak's  eyes  had  peered  into  the  gloom  inside 
the  cave  till  she  could  see  distinctly,  and  she  now 
discerned  a  human  figure  muffled  in  a  blanket  lying 
at  the  further  end. 

"  He  sick,"  she  said,  and  stepped  inside,  Piokee 
following.  Her  fear  all  vanished  when  she  saw  a 
human  being  in  the  cave  who  seemed  in  need  of  help. 

Wak-wak  muttered  something  in  the  Indian 
tongue  expressing  great  surprise  the  instant  that 
her  eyes  alighted  on  the  prostrate  figure. 

It  was  Nao,  lying  there  asleep,  and  it  was  easy  to 
perceive  that  he  was  seriously  ill.  His  face  was 
drawn  and  pinched  with  pain.  He  had  his  left  arm 

271 


272  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

in  a  sling,  which  had  been  stripped  from  one  end 
of  his  blanket.  Even  in  his  sleep  he  writhed  and 
moaned  as  if  in  deep  distress. 

The  class  were  now  all  gathered  in  the  cave,  but 
they  had  entered  in  a  noiseless  way  that  had  not  in 
the  least  disturbed  the  sleeper. 

All  at  once  the  four  girls  took  a  most  surprising 
way  to  show  their  pity  for  the  sufferer,  whom  they 
knew  to  be  the  young  ghost  dancer  that  had  won 
the  laurels  at  the  pecan  camp. 

Squatting  on  the  rocky  floor,  with  Wak-wak  as 
the  leader,  they  began  a  doleful  plaint,  or  chant, 
as  a  lament  for  his  misfortunes. 

Nao  started  wildly  up,  his  fitful  slumber  broken 
with  a  crash. 

"  Halloo  !  "  he  cried,  with  feverish  anxiety,  above 
the  din,  "you've  got  me  this  time,  sure  enough." 
Then,  seeing  but  a  group  of  girls,  his  panic-stricken 
look  abated,  and  he  stared  about  him  in  bewilderment. 

Frightened  by  the  dismal  wail  the  girls  kept  up 
with  growing  fervor,  and  by  Nao's  strange  appear- 
ance, Nanno  burst  into  a  fit  of  childish  weeping, 
which  she  emphasized  with  piercing  screams. 

Piokee  tried  in  vain  to  quell  the  singular  disturb- 
ance, Nao  growing  quite  beside  himself,  until  he 
seemed  about  to  flee  the  spot  in  wild  despair. 

At  this  pass  she  adopted  a  decisive  measure. 
Seizing  Wak-wak  by  the  shoulders  from  behind,  she 


DEPARTED    GLORY.  273 

shook  her  with  such  desperate  resolution  that  the 
wail  was  smothered  in  her  throat.  Then  she  turned 
on  Annamosa  with  a  like  result.  This  burst  of  stern 
authority  from  their  gentle  little  teacher  brought 
the  girls  completely  to  their  senses,  and  all  four 
subsided  into  silence,  Nanno  following  their  example 
in  a  wink. 

"  I  thought  it  was  the  cowboys.  They  Were  after 
me,"  said  Nao,  settling  back  to  lean  against  the  wall 
and  heave  another  groan. 

"  No ;  it's  just  the  class,"  Piokee  soothingly  as- 
sured him.  "Are  you  badly  hurt,  and  why  were 
the  cowboys  after  you?"  she  asked,  with  wondering 
pity  and  alarm. 

"Oh  !  it's  the  goody-goody  girl,"  said  Nao,  look- 
ing at  Piokee  for  the  first  time  with  his  feverish 
eyes.  "  Yes ;  it's  bad  enough,  I  reckon.  There's  a 
bullet  in  my  arm,  and  —  well,  it  doesn't  make  me 
feel  firstrrate." 

"  Oh !  you  poor  boy,"  said  Piokee.  "  Did  the 
cowboys  shoot  you  ?  And  what  did  you  do  to  stir 
them  up  ?" 

"  I  fell  in  with  two  half-breed  rustlers  over  on  the 
grazing  lands,  who  had  been  branding  cattle  that 
they  didn't  own,  and  selling  them.  I  wasn't  in  it 
—  on  my  word  —  'twas  done  before  I  met  the 
thieves,"  he  added,  in  a  tone  of  feeble  self-defense. 
"  I  overheard  them  talking  of  it,  and  was  going  to 


274  PIOKEE   AKD    HEK   PEOPLE. 

cut  loose  from  them.  The  cowboys  chased  us,  but 
we  got  away.  My  pony  couldn't  travel  like  the 
other  two,  and  he  and  I  got  shot.  The  little  beast 
fell  down,  and  I  cut  off  into  the  woods  afoot. 

"  I  tramped  it  to  the  Mokohoko  village,  where  the 
medicine  man  began  to  mumble  over  me,  and  the 
squaws  to  howl  like  fifty  Furies,  as  this  party  did 
just  now.  I  broke  away,  and  got  as  far  as  this 
place  and  gave  out  this  afternoon.  I  saw  the  cave 
from  over  there  across  the  creek,  and  reckoned  I 
could  die  in  peace  in  here,  so  I  crossed  the  water 
on  a  footlog  and  crawled  in." 

"  But  you  don't  want  to  die  in  peace,  you  want 
to  live  in  peace  and  be  a  man,"  Piokee  said,  with 
bracing  cheer.  "Now,  then,  you're  going  home 
with  me  —  to  get  the  monstrous  sandwich,"  it  oc- 
curred to  her  to  say,  but  she  restrained  her  tongue, 
not  wishing  to  remind  him  of  the  humble  pie. 
"  We'll  take  good  care  of  you,  and  send  for  Dr. 
Whistler  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  The  old  head  chief  is  quits  with  me,  and  I  could 
hardly  face  him  if  he  wasn't;  and  you  wouldn't 
want  me  lying  round  in  this  shape,"  Nao  answered, 
with  increasing  misery. 

He  was  now  as  much  ashamed  of  his  wild  Indian 
garb  as  he  had  been  of  civilized  attire  a  few  months 
previous.  His  blouse  and  leggings  were  begrimed 
with  mud,  one  ragged  moccasin  was  his  only  foot- 


DEPARTED    GLORY.  275 

gear,  and  his  once  gay  blanket  of  bright  blue  was 
soiled  and  faded  and  half-torn  in  two.  He  had  a 
blood-stained  bandage  from  the  blanket  wrapped 
about  his  wounded  arm.  His  hair  had  flourished 
wildly  during  the  Messiah  campaign,  and  was  now 
matted  to  his  head,  and  much  adorned  with  twigs 
and  moss  from  camping  on  the  ground.  Vanished 
was  his  vermilion  war-paint,  leaving  but  the  faintest 
shadow  of  a  streak  across  one  cheek.  In  truth,  the 
glory  of  the  young  Messiah  reader  had  departed, 
and  he  was  a  total  wreck  in  fame  and  fortune. 

"  Yes ;  I  should  want  you  round  in  that  shape,  or 
in  any  other  shape,  if  you  were  ill  and  needed  to  be 
taken  care  of,"  was  Piokee's  sympathetic  answer. 
"And  you  needn't  be  one  bit  afraid  to  face  our 
Doctor  when  he  comes  —  for  I  am  sure  he  will  come 
when  I  send  for  him." 

Thus  was  Nao  urged  to  rouse  himself  and  wend 
his  slow  way  to  the  hut,  some  half  a  mile  beyond. 
Growing  dizzy  from  the  pain  of  his  neglected  wound, 
he  was  ignobly  forced  to  let  Piokee  lead  him  by  the 
right  arm,  Wak-wak  steering  him  by  holding  to  his 
sides. 

Piokee  made  for  him  a  bed  below  one  window  of 
the  hut,  and  cut  away  his  sleeve  to  bathe  the  wound 
and  bandage  it  with  clean  white  muslin.  Much  to 
her  relief  her  father  was  at  home,  and  was  induced 
to  go  for  Dr.  Whistler  after  some  delay. 


276  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

Nao  tossed  and  writhed  all  night,  Piokee  watching 
near  him  by  the  dim  light  of  a  tallow  candle  on  a 
beam  above  his  bed.  Fauqua  dozed  at  times,  but 
roused  herself  quite  frequently  to  bring  cool  water 
from  the  spring,  for  Nao  was  consumed  with  thirst. 

At  dawn  came  Dr.  Whistler,  with  a  span  of  horses 
and  a  light  spring  wagon.  He  had  brought  some 
blankets  and  a  cot,  and  other  things  for  Nao's  con> 
fort.  Cold  Blast  sat  beside  the  Doctor,  his  pony 
trotting  in  the  rear. 

If  Dr.  Whistler's  righteous  indignation  at  the 
young  Messiah  reader's  grave  offense  was  not  dis- 
pelled by  his  misfortune,  it  was  held  in  good  con- 
trol, for  there  was  nothing  in  his  manner  but  the 
tenderest  concern  for  Nao's  suffering  condition. 

"Now,  my  boy,  we'll  see  about  the  arm,"  ob- 
served he,  when  the  dust  of  the  Messiah  campaign 
was  washed  away,  the  wild  Indian  garb  reduced  to 
ashes  in  the  fireplace,  and  Nao,  shorn  of  his  super- 
flous  locks,  was  lying  on  the  cot  in  a  flannel  dress- 
ing-gown of  Dr.  Whistler's,  from  which  one  sleeve 
had  been  cut  off.  "  Will  you  take  something  to  be- 
numb the  pain  while  I  am  hunting  for  the  bullet?" 

"  No  ;  I'd  rather  keep  my  senses.  Go  ahead !  I'll 
grin  and  bear  it,"  Nao  said. 

He  had  revived  amazingly,  so  soon,  under  the 
Doctor's  care,  and  he  set  his  teeth  with  resolute 
endurance  as  the  glittering  probe  began  its  work. 


DEPARTED    GLORY.  277 

The  wound  was  just  below  the  shoulder,  and  the 
bullet  was  embedded  in  the  flesh  against  the  bone. 

"  It  must  be  taken  out.  I'll  be  as  easy  as  I  can, 
dear  boy,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  wiping  off  the  beads 
of  sweat  from  Nao's  forehead,  for  the  wound  was 
much  inflamed,  and  there  was  agony  in  the  opera- 
tion. "  You  would  better  take  the  ether  now.  If 
you  should  flinch  it  might  be  bad  for  you." 

"No,  no,"  resisted  Nao.  "Dig  away,  old  fellow. 
I  don't  feel  so  much  like  fighting,  as  it's  you  that's 
killing  me.  The  goody-goody  girl  might  grip  my 
wrist  if  you're  afraid  I'll  flinch." 

"  Can  you  ?  "  Dr.  Whistler  asked  Piokee,  who  was 
standing  by. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  bracing  up  her  nerves. 

She  held  the  wrist  with  steady  hands  until  the 
torturing  work  was  done.  Nao  felt  a  deal  of 
strength  imparted  by  her  cool,  soft  fingers,  helping 
him  to  bear  the  pain  with  fortitude. 

There  was  no  school  that  day,  Piokee  having  told 
the  girls  the  afternoon  before  that  there  would  be 
an  intermission  until  further  notice. 

In  the  balmy  moonlit  evening  the  wagon  Dr. 
Whistler  had  brought  was  made  an  ambulance  to 
carry  Nao  to  his  house.  He  went  to  avoid  inspec- 
tion from  the  train  of  curious  sympathizers  from  the 
village  who  had  learned  of  his  misfortune,  and  had 
straggled  back*  and  forth  since  morning. 


278  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

It  was  an  anxious  question  if  there  would  not 
have  to  be  another  operation,  which  would  cause 
the  luckless  Naopope  to  wear  an  empty  sleeve 
through  life.  But  eventually  Piokee  learned  from 
Dr.  Whistler  that  the  wound  was  past  all  danger, 
though  the  arm  was  very  weak. 

"  I  fear  the  boy  will  always  have  a  crippled  left 
arm  to  remind  him  of  his  little  ghost-dance  lark," 
said  he. 

"  But  perhaps  he'll  do  far  better  with  but  one 
strong  arm  and  his  experience,  than  he  would  have 
done  with  both  arms,  if  he'd  never  had  it." 

"  Very  likely,"  Dr.  Whistler  replied.  "  He  seems 
to  be  completely  cured  of  his  wild  Indian  fever, 
though  it  may  break  out  again.  From  his  frank 
confession  Nao  didn't  have  a  good  time  from  the 
start  in  his  exploits.  The  Cheyennes  and  Arapa- 
hoes  were  not  successful  in  their  efforts  to  arouse 
the  ghost-dance  fervor  in  the  other  tribes,  and  find- 
ing that  the  Government  authorities  were  watching 
them,  they  thought  it  wise  to  make  back  tracks  for 
home. 

"  The  boy  was  left  to  skirmish  for  himself.  He 
begged  his  way  a  while,  and  nearly  starved  on 
squaw-food,  but  he  grew  ashamed  of  being  such  a 
vagabond,  and  went  to  work  herding  cattle  on  the 
grazing  lands.  The  cowboys  didn't  like  the  way  he 
dressed,  I  fancy,  or  objected  to  the  color  of  his  skin. 


DEPARTED    GLORY.  279 

They  ordered  him  to  quit  the  business,  and  he 
was  obeying  orders  when  the  rustlers  overtook 
him." 

"He  has  had  a  fearful  time,  poor  fellow,"  said 
Piokee.  "  Does  he  talk  of  going  back  to  school,  or 
will  he  settle  down  to  doing  something  on  the 
reservation  ?  " 

"  He  thinks  he's  had  enough  of  school,  and  so  do 
I.  I'll  see  what  he  can  do  managing  the  sawmill 
through  the  summer,  and  next  fall  I  hope  he'll  feel 
inclined  to  set  about  improving  the  allotment  which 
I  have  secured  for  him  adjoining  my  farm." 

"  Oh !  then  you  mean  to  trust  him,  after  all  ?  I 
knew  you  would,  if  you  did  look  so  stern  when  you 
declared  you  never  could,"  Piokee  said  triumphantly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  with  a  helpless  smile ; 
"  I  find  I'm  weak  enough  to  let  the  young  scamp 
wind  me  round  his  finger  just  as  ever.  But  to 
change  the  subject,  has  your  father  lately  traded 
for  those  three  fine  ponies  in  that  clump  of  oaks, 
and  those  two  saddles,  bridles,  stirrups,  whips  and 
other  trappings  hanging  to  the  trees  in  such  pro- 
fusion ?  " 

They  were  standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  tent ; 
the  clump  of  oak-trees  was  a  few  yards  off. 

"  Why,  I  haven't  found  out,"  said  Piokee.  "  Keo- 
qualk,  old  Pawshepaho's  nephew,  brought  them  here 
this  afternoon,  and  there  seems  to  be  some  mystery 


280  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

I  don't  understand.  He  tied  the  ponies  to  the  trees 
and  hung  the  things  up  there  while  father  watched 
him.  After  that  they  talked  awhile,  then  father 
went  to  the  corral  and  Keoqualk  came  and  stood 
close  by  the  hut  as  if  he  had  a  notion  to  come  in, 
but  hadn't  quite  decided.  I  was  sure  he  wanted 
something  and  was  going  out  to  see,  but  mother 
pulled  me  back  and  shut  the  door.  I  couldn't  get 
her  to  explain  why,  and  she  acted  so  excited  and 
distressed,  I  have  been  wondering  ever  since  what 
it  could  mean." 

"  What  next  did  Keoqualk  do  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Whist- 
ler in  a  sternly  anxious  tone. 

"  He  stood  there  quite  a  wrhile  stock  still  —  I  saw 
him  through  the  window  —  then  he  walked  around 
the  house  and  swung  his  arms  and  struck  himself  as 
if  in  deep  despair.  Then  father  rode  up  on  his  pony, 
and  they  went  away  together." 

"  Has  the  fellow  been  around  before,  conducting 
in  this  singular  manner  ? "  Dr.  Whistler  pursued, 
with  kindling  ire. 

"  Why,  yes ;  he's  been  here  very  often  since  the 
Mokohokos'  raid,  and  now  I  think  of  it,  I  wonder  if 
he  isn't  crazy.  He  has  stalked  around  the  tent  and 
hut,  looking  so  disconsolate  I  really  pitied  him,  and 
yesterday,  while  I  was  in  here  mixing  gems  for  sup- 
per, what  did  Keoqualk  do  but  sit  down  on  the 
ground  before  the  open  door  and  cross  his  arms  and 


DEPARTED    GLORY.  281 

hang  his  head,  and  I  could  hear  him  sighing  at  a 
fearful  rate." 

A  low  ejaculation  shot  from  under  Dr.  Whistler's 
breath.  Piokee  started  at  the  strange  commotion 
into  which  the  Keoqualk  episode  had  plunged  him, 
for  some  reason  quite  beyond  her  ken. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THE    TRUE    HEART. 

DR.  WHISTLER  was  now  the  Black  Hawk  In- 
dian, and  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  was  in  a 
towering  rage. 

He  paced  the  floor  with  wrathful  strides,  with 
stern,  set  lips  and  fiercely  frowning  brow.  Ever 
and  anon  he  paused  with  startling  abruptness,  check- 
ing his  impetuous  steps  as  if  to  hold  a  threatening 
parley  with  some  strong,  invisible  adversary. 

All  at  once  he  whirled  about  and  faced  the  won- 
dering Piokee,  who  had  followed  him  half-way 
across  the  tent,  saying  in  a  voice  made  strangely 
harsh  by  his  emotion  : 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  it  means  —  this  queer  be- 
havior of  the  young  man  who  has  brought  the  ponies 
to  your  door,  and  lurks  around  to  cast  a  stealthy 
glance  at  you  and  smite  his  breast  in  so  disconsolate 
a  way  ?  He  wants  to  buy  you  as  his  wife,  and  your 
father  is  considering  the  bargain.  As  this  Keoqualk 


THE    TKUE    HEART.  283 

cannot  pay  the  price  your  father  asks  for  you  in 
ponies,  he  would  make  it  up  in  saddles,  bridles  and 
whatever  trappings  he  has  scraped  together  by  fair 
means  or  foul.  Yes  ;  I  know  that  I  am  telling  you 
all  this  with  cruel  roughness,  but  there  is  no  way  to 
break  it  easily,"  as  she  recoiled  in  wide-eyed  horror. 
"  You  must  face  the  problem  to  the  bitter  end,  Pio- 
kee,"  he  went  on,  "  and  feel  the  woe  of  knowing 
that  your  father  is  an  ignorant  barbarian  who  would 
not  be  ashamed  to  sell  his  child  for  horse  flesh.  The 
atrocious  custom  has  begun  to  die  out  in  our  tribe, 
thank  Heaven,  but  there  is  still  enough  of  it  to 
overwhelm  us  with  disgrace." 

He  took  another  furious  turn  across  the  floor, 
coming  back  to  find  Piokee  standing  straight  and 
still,  the  queenly  little  head  disdainfully  erect,  hands 
held  behind  her  in  a  rigid  clasp,  the  dark  eyes 
charged  with  swiftly  kindled  fire. 

"  Does  my  father  think  to  sell  me  as  his  wives 
were  sold  to  him  ? "  she  said,  with  ominous  softness 
of  the  voice.  "  Why,  it  would  be  so  easy  to  prevent 
that.  It  is  all  according  to  the  will,  you  see.  There 
isn't  anything  quite  equal  to  a  person's  will  when  it 
is  firmly  set.  Floods  and  fires  and  cyclones  aren't 
so  strong  as  those  two  little  words  ( I  will.'  Do  you 
remember  how  the  martyrs  stood  all  kinds  of  tor- 
ture and  serenely  smiled  at  death  because  they  had 
the  will  to  do  it  ?  I  shall  say  to  Keoqualk  and 


284  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

my  father,  '  I  will  refuse/  and  that  is  all  there  is 
about  it." 

The  disdainful  little  head  was  held  in  air  a  mo- 
ment more,  and  then  rushed  over  her  the  shame, 
the  horror  of  the  situation,  the  despair  of  hopeless 
strife  against  the  strength  of  her  degraded  parent- 
age that  hemmed  her  in  and  dragged  her  down,  and 
she  rebelliously  cried  out : 

"  Oh  !  why  did  God  create  the  Indian  ?  It  is  all 
too  terrible  and  I  can  never,  never  bear  it !  " 

Sinking  down  into  a  chair,  this  stricken  child  of 
the  degraded  race,  she  swept  herself  about  and  laid 
her  tightly  folded  arms  across  its  back  and  dropped 
her  burning  face  against  them. 

Dr.  Whistler's  fiery  indignation,  which  made  him 
rashly  meditate,  while  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  held 
him  in  his  grasp,  of  riding  forth  to  wreak  fell  venge- 
ance on  the  lovelorn  Keoqualk,  now  subsided  into 
agitation  of  a  wholly  different  sort.  His  steps  were 
less  impetuous,  the  black  scowl  vanished  and  his 
face  grew  tender  with  a  new  emotion. 

Presently  he  stopped  behind  Piokee's  chair,  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  as  if  to  touch  her  hair  in  light 
caress.  But  no  ;  he  would  not  lay  his  finger-tips 
upon  the  bowed  young  head,  so  helplessly  appealing 
in  its  stricken  attitude,  till 'he  had  told  her  what 
was  in  his  heart. 

"Piokee,  there  is  something  that  I  wish  to  say, 


PIOKEE,    THERE   IS   SOMETHING   I   WISH   TO   SAY.' 


THE    TRUE    HEART.  287 

but  I  must  say  it  to  your  face.  Will  you  look  up 
and  listen  ?  "  he  requested  gently. 

She  raised  her  head  with  tearless,  piteous  eyes. 

"  You  look  so  little  sitting  there  —  I  tower  above 
you  so  in  height  it  robs  me  of  my  fortitude,"  he 
noted  with  a  half-resolute  smile.  "Perhaps  if  you 
would  stand  and  make  yourself  as  tall  as  possible  I 
might  go  on  with  stouter  heart.  Ah  !  that  is  better 
—  now  you  almost  reach  my  shoulder,"  as  she  rose 
and  stood  before  him  with  pathetic  face  and  mute, 
despairing  lips.  "  Piokee,  you  are  but  a  little  girl 
of  sixteen,"  he  resumed,  "  and  I  am  thirty-one. 
You  are  too  young,  by  far,  to  have  to  think  of  what 
I  am  about  to  ask  you,  and  had  fate  so  willed  it  that 
you  could  have  passed  a  safe  and  happy  girlhood  in 
your  civilized  home,  I  should  not  have  spoken  for 
some  years,  at  least,  and  then  I  fear  my  courage 
would  have  failed  me  for  all  time,  owing  to  the 
difference  in  our  age. 

"But  everything  is  changed;  your  tribe  has 
claimed  you  as  a  sacrifice,  and  you  are  now  con- 
fronted by  the  bitterest  and  most  perilous  feature 
of  this  wretched  Indian  life,  which  gives  our  young 
girls,  scarcely  in  their  teens,  in  marriage  to  the  men 
who  may  succeed  in  buying  them,  and  sinks  them  to 
a  life  of  drudgery  thereafter.  0,  my  poor  child  !  I 
am  frightening  you  —  you  shrink  and  tremble  when 
I  try  to  tell  you  in  the  gentlest  way  that  I  can  deal 


288  PIOKEE    AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

with  this  hard  matter.  But  I  am  too  long  in  coming 
to  the  point. 

"Piokee,  little  one,  I  want  to  guard  you  as  rny 
promised  wife.  If  you  are  pledged  to  me  your 
father  will  reject  all  other  suitors,  and  you  will  be 
free  from  further  persecution. 

"  My  one  treasure,  I  must  have  you  !  It  would 
be  too  hard  to  live  my  solitary  life  without  you,"  he 
besought  her  eagerly.  "  Piokee,  tell  me,  had  you 
been  in  Mamma  Prairie's  home  to-day,  and  I  had 
asked  you  if  you  would  sometime  be  my  wife,  what 
would  you  have  answered  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  would  have  answered  yes,  my  chief  —  a 
happy  yes.  What  else  could  I  have  wished  to  say  ?  " 
she  murmured,  with  a  rush  of  wondering  joy. 

"  You  might  have  wished  to  say  no  —  little  women 
sometimes  do,"  he  smiled,  "  and  made  me  wretched 
all  my  days.  But  now  I  am  the  happiest  man 
alive,"  breaking  out  into  the  old,  old  rhapsody  of 
the  successful  wooer. 

"I  shall  guard  my  treasure  very  jealously,"  he 
tenderly  declared.;  "  and  I  dare  boast  that  Keoqualk, 
the  presuming  fellow,  will  be  made  to  cower  in  his 
moccasins  if  he  demurs  at  taking  back  the  ponies." 

"But  if  father  should  insist  on  keeping  them?*' 
supposed  Piokee,  trembling  anew. 

"  Then,"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  with  protecting  arms 
about  her,  "  I  am  sure  I  should  be  justified  in  com- 


THE   TRUE    HEART.  289 

ing  like  a  cavalier  of  old,  to  bear  my  little  lady-love 
away  by  might  and  main  to  call  at  once  upon  the 
parson." 

"  But  he  couldn't  help  preferring  you  to  Keoqualk, 
many  thousand  times/'  she  reassured  him,  slipping 
back  into  the  chair  to  let  her  fond,  proud  gaze 
mount  up  to  him. 

"  I  don't  know,"  gravely  doubted  he  ;  "  Keoqualk 
with  the  ponies  may  be  more  to  him  than  I  should 
be  without  them.  It  is  very  shocking  to  consider, 
after  my  denunciation  of  the  wretched  custom,  but 
I  may  be  forced  to  buy  my  wife,  just  as  if  I  were  the 
veriest  barbarian,"  he  added,  sitting  down  upon  the 
stump  to  face  her  with  the  utmost  seriousness. 

"Why,  you  couldn't  buy  me,  don't  you  see  ?  "  she 
reasoned,  "  since  I  have  already  given  myself  to  you 
because  I  am  so  proud  and  happy  to  belong  to  you." 

"  True,  little  heart,"  said  he  ;  "  but  the  effect  of 
helping  to  perpetuate  the  barbarous  custom  by  out- 
bidding Keoqualk  would  be  quite  the  same  as  if  I 
were  to  purchase  an  unwilling  bride.  I  am  inclined 
to  think  a  swift  ride  to  the  parson's  would  be  less 
disastrous  to  my  influence  as  a  civilized  man,"  he 
cogitated  with  a  puzzled  air. 

"  Oh !  that  would  never  do  except  for  life  or 
death,"  protested  she,  in  bright  confusion.  "  Others 
on  the  reservation  would  be  following  our  example, 
and  —  and  —  it's  dreadful  to  elope." 


290  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  Well,"  smiled  he,  "  I'll  reason  with  your  father 
to  the  best  of  my  ability,  and  try  to  win  you  as  the 
sweet,  free  gift  that  you  would  wish  to  be  ;  but  if  I 
fail  in  that  I  can  but  choose  some  other  way  of 
offering  him  a  —  benefit;  "  he  could  not  say  a  price 
— "  though  I  assure  you  it  shall  not  be  that  of 
driving  ponies  to  your  door. 

"  He  may  accept  the  offer  of  my  aid  to  build  a 
house  and  otherwise  improve  the  land  he  can  select 
for  the  allotments  of  himself  and  family  in  one  por- 
tion. I  should  wish  it  to  be  near  my  farm,  that  you 
may  be  the  better  under  my  protection.  To  assist 
the  father  of  my  future  wife  to  gain  a  comfortable 
home  would  be  a  fair  act  from  a  civilized  view,  and 
I  should  want  to  do  that  even  if  I  had  you  as  the 
sweet  free  gift." 

"  You  generous,  noble  man  !  "  exclaimed  Piokee. 
"  But  you  never  ought  to  do  it.  If  you  were  as 
rich  as  Croesus  you'd  be  tottering  on  the  verge  of 
ruin  in  the  end  from  helping  others.  It  would  be 
too  beautiful  to  have  you  for  a  neighbor ;  but  what 
should  I  do  about  my  school  ?  We  could  move  the 
tent  and  furniture  to  our  allotments,  but  we  couldn't 
move  the  girls." 

"It  is  quite  probable  the  parents  of  your  girls 
will  settle  on  allotments  of  their  own  before  long, 
and  in  that  case  you  would  lose  your  class.  But 
you  have  given  them  so  fine  a  start  I  think  we  could 


THE    TRUE    HEART.  291 

persuade  their  parents  to  allow  them  to  become 
Miss  Harriet's  pupils  at  the  Agency,  next  fall." 

"  The  girls  would  like  that,  I  am  sure,  and  they 
could  live  there  at  the  school  and  learn  much  more 
than  I  am  teaching  them.  But  it  would  be  the  trial 
of  my  life  to  give  them  up,  and  I  should  have  to 
raise  another  class,  though  I  could  never  find  four 
girls  like  them  in  all  respects,  especially  Wak-wak." 

"  Well,  you  couldn't  step  outside  the  missionary 
field  anywhere  within  the  reservation,"  Dr.  Whistler 
responded. 

"  I  suppose  the  tribe  are  choosing  their  allotments 
now,"  observed  Piokee. 

"  Yes,"  said  he ;  "  the  last  lone  treaty  that  can 
ever  be  presented  to  our  tribe  has  recently  been 
signed,  ceding  to  the  Government  the  last  strip  of 
our  salable  land.  We  may  now  divide  the  remnant, 
stretching  fifty  miles  one  way  and  twenty-five  the 
other  into  quarter  sections,  and  begin  our  farming 
failures,  as  the  white  man  reasonably  premises.  I 
shall  keep  my  farm  as  my  allotment.  The  annuity 
has  been  increased  from  sixty  to  one  hundred  dol- 
lars by  the  sale  of  this  last  strip  of  our  diminished 
acres." 

"After  all,  though  we  do  like  to  scold  the  Gov- 
ernment for  having  robbed  us  so,  our  tribe  is  now 
so  small  we  have  enough  if  we  knew  how  to  make 
the  best  of  it,"  Piokee  said.  "  Why,  we  are  really 


292  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

rich  —  much  richer  than  so  many  white  folks  lumped 
together.  There  will  be  five  farms  —  eight  hundred 
acres  —  in  our  family,  and  a  yearly  income  of  five 
hundred  dollars  from  the  Government.  Father 
ought  to  save  enough  to  pay  you  back  if  you  help 
him  build  a  house.  He  could  sell  the  hut  for  some- 
thing, I  suppose.  How  nicely  we  might  live  if 
father  only  cared  to  learn  the  way.  But  we  will 
work  it  out  somehow,  sometime,"  she  hopefully 
declared. 

"  How  many  years  am  I  to  spare  you  while  you 
try  to  work  it  out?"  said  Dr.  Whistler,  with  a  man's 
impatience  to  possess  the  treasure  he  had  scarcely 
dared  to  dream  of  till  that  hour. 

"I  don't  know,  dear,"  she  said,  with  womanly 
uncertainty.  "  All  that  is  in  the  tangled  skein,  and 
we  must  wait  for  it  to  be  unwound." 

"  But,  meanwhile,  Keoqualk  must  be  vanquished 
in  due  haste,"  observed  he,  rising  to  depart.  "  I 
shall  find  your  father  in  the  village,  I  suppose. 
1  shall  not  rest  a  minute  on  his  trail  till  all  has 
been  decided. 

"  No  explanation  need  be  made  to  Keoqualk.  By 
the  custom,  you  have  but  to  leave  his  offerings 
where  they  are  till  morning.  He  will  be  about  by 
earliest  dawn  to  view  the  prospect,  and  will  know 
his  suit  has  been  rejected  when  he  sees  them  undis- 
turbed. This,  in  case  my  own  has  been  accepted 


THE    TKUE    HEAKT.  293 

by  your  father,"  added  he,  with  deep  anxiety,  which 
he  sought  to  hide  beneath  a  calm  exterior. 

Cold  Blast  was  still  absent  when  Piokee  went  to 
bed.  In  vigilant  suspense  she  lay  awake  to  watch 
for  his  return.  She  could  not  hear  his  steps,  he 
walked  so  softly  in  his  moccasins,  but  she  heard  the 
clicking  of  the  wooden  latch,  and  smelt  his  pipe 
smoke  stealing  through  the  cracks  into  the  lean-to. 

She  arose  in  trembling  haste,  and  peering  through 
her  little  window  tried  to  see  if  he  had  led  the  ponies 
off  to  the  corral,  and  removed  the  trappings  to  the 
shed.  A  veil  of  misty  darkness  hung  between  the 
window  and  the  trees,  and  strain  her  eyes  as  best 
she  might  she  could  discern  nothing. 

Presently  her  father's  snores  proclaimed  that  he 
was  fast  asleep. 

A  half-formed  plan  to  steal  out  and  reconnoiter 
was  rejected  as  unsafe,  lest  Keoqualk  be  lurking 
round  with  like  intent. 

She  settled  down  in  bed,  and  made  a  resolute 
attempt  to  banish  wakefulness  by  watching  in  her 
mind's  eye  an  apparently  unending  line  of  sly  black 
pigs  creeping  through  a  hedge  gap  to  invade  a 
cabbage  patch.  Before  the  thirtieth  pig  was  fairly 
in  the  patch  Piokee  lost  herself  in  sleep. 

The  earliest  morning  sunbeams  were  just  stream- 
ing through  the  muslin  apron  draped  across  the 
window  for  a  curtain  when  Piokee  started  from  her 


294  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

bed,  and  in  a  flash  was  at  the  window  to  inspect  the 
situation  at  the  oaks. 

Ponies,  saddles,  bridles,  all  were  gone. 

She  dressed  herself  with  speed,  and  slipping  out 
of  doors  she  flew  with  winged  feet  to  the  corral. 

The  ponies  were  not  there,  nor  were  the  trappings 
in  the  shed. 

By  this  she  knew  her  chief  had  won  the  suit. 
But  how  had  it  been  won  ?  A  tumult  of  misgiving 
mingled  with  her  joyful  relief.  Was  it  only  by 
outbidding  Keoqualk,  or  by  her  father's  own  free 
will? 

Cold  Blast  had  bestirred  himself  much  earlier  than 
usual  this  morning,  for  the  cornpath  was  distress- 
ingly in  need  of  some  attention,  and  to  his  amaze- 
ment Fauqua  had  declined  to  take  the  hoe  in  hand 
this  year.  Hence  he  had  risen  with  a  view  to  set- 
ting forth  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  disposed  of  to 
secure  a  plow,  by  borrowing  or  hiring,  with  which 
to  do  the  work  himself.  Piokee  met  him  at  the 
bars  of  the  corral  as  she  was  coming  from  the  pony 
shed. 

"  Father,"  she  began  to  question,  while  her  heart 
went  pit-a-pat,  "were  you  with  Dr.  Whistler  last 
night  —  and  did  he  talk  to  you  —  about  himself  — 
and  me  ?  " 

"  Heap  yes,"  responded  Cold  Blast,  with  a  stolid 
air. 


THE    TEUE    HEART.  295 

"  What  —  did  he  say  ?  "  she  further  asked. 

"  He  want  Piokee  be  his  little  squaw  few  grass 
grows.  Ugh  !  queer  Injun.  Wait  long  time ;"  and 
Cold  Blast  seemed  to  meditate  in  puzzled  wonder 
on  the  why  and  wherefore  of  the  waiting. 

"Then  what  did  you  say?"  she  pursued,  with 
fluttering  anxiety. 

"  I  say  he  bring  four  ponies,  no  traps,  I  swapee 
little  tame  squaw." 

"But  he  wouldn't  do  it,  and  you  couldn't  trade 
me  that  way,"  cried  Piokee,  while  she  clutched 
the  bars  for  a  support.  "  0,  father !  "  she  appealed, 
"  you  took  it  all  back,  didn't  you,  and  told  him  he 
might  have  me  free  as  air,  because  he  is  the  noblest 
man  that  ever  lived  ?  You  didn't  swap  me  for  the 
least  thing,  did  you,  father?" 

"  Heap  yes,"  he  replied,  with  a  decisive  grunt. 

"  Oh !  then  I'll  have  to  give  up  trying,"  said 
Piokee,  feeling  that  the  last  prop  that  had  stayed 
her  hopes  of  working  an  effectual  reformation  in 
her  father  had  been  knocked  from  under,  and  she 
could  not  raise  them  from  the  dust  again.  He  was 
shackled  to  the  barbarous  customs,  and  as  long  as 
he  should  draw  the  breath  of  life  he  could  not  cast 
them  off. 

"  He  say  he  not  swapee  ponies.  Swapee  true 
heart,"  continued  Cold  Blast,  after  a  depressing 
silence,  during  which  Piokee  leaned  against  the 


296  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

bars  to  view  the  problem  with  discouraged  eyes. 
"  I  smoke  long  time.  Say  I  swapee  Piokee.  Take 
true  heart." 

There  was  a  joyful  little  cry,  and  bounding  up 
Piokee  threw  her  arms  around  her  big,  grim  father's 
neck,  and  dazed  him  with  the  first  embrace  that  she 
had  ever  dared  to  give  him. 

"  Father,  father !  you  are  so  much  better  than  I 
thought  you  were.  You  can't  begin  to  think  how 
happy  you  have  made  your  civilized  daughter." 

Fleeing  from  the  blank  amazement  of  her  stolid 
sire  she  pounced  on  Fauqua,  stirring  mush  for 
breakfast  on  the  stove,  and  seized  her  round  the 
waist  and  murmured  in  her  ear : 

"  Father  can  be  civilized,  little  mother,  and  I  am 
so  happy,  happy,  happy !  He  has  given  up  three 
ponies  and  two  saddles,  and  a  lot  of  straps  and  other 
trumpery  for  a  strong,  true  heart,  which  he  knows 
is  better  than  all  else." 

Oh !  the  joy  of  that  delicious  morning,  with  the 
daisies  smiling  from  the  sod,  the  larks  and  robins 
singing  in  the  air,  the  white  clouds  sailing  overhead. 

The  reservations  after  reservations  stretching  to 
the  Western  boundary,  no  longer  seemed  as  plague- 
spots  on  the  fair  sweet  earth. 

"  True,  they  are  peopled  with  a  race  of  strange, 
benighted  beings,"  thought  Piokee,  "  but  they  can 
be  civilized,  they  can  be  civilized ! "  She  sang  these 


THE   TRUE    HEART.  297 

words  aloud  while  milking  Buttercup,  the  gentle 
cow,  the  white  streams  dashing  down  into  the  pail 
and  playing  an  exultant  little  overture  to  swell 
the  song. 

Was  not  her  friend  of  friends,  the  wise  physician, 
one  of  those  who  had  been  civilized  ?  Had  he  not 
climbed  to  noble  manhood  from  the  depth  of  igno- 
rance in  which  the  race  was  sunk  ? 

And  they  were  climbing  everywhere :  in  schools 
upon  the  reservations,  and  in  Eastern  cities,  on  the 
farms  and  in  the  workshop  —  these  young  students 
with  the  dusky  faces  and  the  gloomy  natures  tram- 
meled by  inherited  despair. 

Ah,  yes !  the  slow,  inquiring  minds  and  clumsy, 
oft-discouraged  hands  would  win  the  day  at  last, 
and  then  the  race  would  cease  complaining,  and  the 
white  man  cease  his  scoffing,  and  no  longer  would 
there  be  an  Indian  problem  to  perplex  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING. 

SUMMER  in  the  lovely  other  world.  The  little 
brown  maid  Nanno,  and  the  little  fair  maid 
Miriam,  face  to  face  upon  the  wide  piazza  of  the 
ranch-house,  in  the  midst  of  a  bewildering  array  of 
playthings,  which  the  little  brown  maid  views  in 
still  delight,  but  scarcely  ventures  to  take  hold  of,  in 
her  wonderment  of  all  such  fairy-like  belongings. 

It  was  now  three  weeks  since  Nanno  and  Piokee 
had  arrived  upon  a  visit  to  the  ranch-house,  and 
though  Miriam  had  kept  up  a  steady  chat  at  Nanno 
all  this  time,  she  had  not  gained  the  merest  bit  of 
answer  as  an  inkling  to  the  little  shy,  still  creature's 
thoughts. 

"  Don't  you  ever  talk  ?  "  said  Miriam,  heaping 
Nanno's  lap  with  dolls  of  every  class  and  color,  from 
the  waxen  beauty  who  was  queen  of  all  the  doll 
court,  to  black  Sambo,  who  did  duty  as  a  coachman 
to  the  queen.  "  I  s'pose  your  voice  is  scared  at 

298 


THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING.  299 

stwangers,  and  is  hiding  somewhere  down  below 
your  tongue.  If  a  little  girl  'at  wants  to  get  ac- 
quainted oh !  des  awfully,  should  tiptoe  up  to  you  — 
vis  way,  and  do  —  vis  way,  I  fink  your  voice  would 
have  to  pop  wight  out  and  speak  to  her."  And 
Miriam  swooped  down  on  Nanno  with  a  sudden 
merry  hug  that  called  from  her  a  much  astonished 
and  emphatic  "  oh ! " 

"  I've  squeezed  it  out !  "  cried  Miriam  in  laughing 
triumph.  "  Now  don't  let  it  hide  again,  for  I  do 
want  to  hear  it  talk  and  laugh  and  sing,  as  if  it  felt 
too  happy  to  keep  still." 

Miriam  perched  herself  upon  the  arm  of  Nanno's 
chair  and  waited  with  a  listening  air  for  something 
more  to  drop  from  Nanno's  lips.  As  if  by  some  mag- 
netic influence  she  drew  out  the  words  that  finally 
unloosed  the  little  brown  maid's  tongue. 

"  You  —  star  —  bright  —  sky  —  up  —  night  ?  You 
—  flower  ?  You —  pretty  —  bird  ?  "  asked  Nanno 
in  a  maze  of  wonder  at  the  little  fair-haired  vision 
hovering  over  her. 

"  0,  no !  I'm  mamma's  girl.  But  somefin  ails 
your  poor  dear  little  voice.  It  doesn't  talk  like 
other  children's  voices,"  Miriam  said,  for  Nanno's 
words  came  slowly,  and  with  labored  effort. 

"  She's  a  little  Fox,  an'  'tain't  no  wonder  that  she 
jumps  rope  backward  with  her  tongue,"  said  Sally, 
thrusting  one  arm  through  the  honeysuckle  vines 


300  PIOKEE    AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

and  shoving  in  a  plate  of  ginger  snaps  to  where  the 
children  sat. 

"  Fank  you,  Sally.  We  are  fond  of  ginger  snaps," 
said  Miriam,  as  she  took  the  plate.  "  But  little  girls 
aren't  foxes,"  she  observed,  "  and  foxes  don't  jump 
wope,  'specially  wiv  vere  tongues.  You  shouldn't 
talk  about  our  company  'at  way,  Sally  dear,"  with 
gentle  gravity. 

"  Meant  a  Fox  Injun,  not  a  furry  critter.  'Tain't 
ter  be  expected  that  she'll  speak  up  peart  an'  spry 
—  no,  'tain't  —  like  them  that's  wagged  their  tongue 
at  white  talk  all  their  lives."  So  saying,  Sally  gave 
her  heels  full  liberty  to  outrun  Ebenezer  who  was 
hurrying  toward  her  with  a  pail  of  berries  on  his 
arm.  He  pursued  her  round  the  house  with  long, 
quick  strides,  and  stopped  her  at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Mis'  Bowers  was  tellin'  Mr.  Bowers  out  yander 
by  the  blackb'ry  patch,  that  that  there  letter  I 
fetched  home  this  afternoon  ter  Dewdrop  hed  bad 
news.  It  was  from  Dr.  Whistler.  He's  a  comin' 
up  here  in  a  hurry,  an'  you'll  be  dumb-struck  ter 
know  they're  goin'  ter  git  married  —  him  an'  her, 
right  off." 

"  Git  married !  Him  an'  her !  Well,  that's  a 
thunderbolt  that  strikes  straight  down  the  chim- 
bley,"  Sally  said,  with  eyes  agog.  "  But  'tain't  bad 
news  —  no, 'tain't.  Leastwise  I  shouldn't  reckon  so 
if  I  was  goin'  ter  be  a  han'some  young  bride,  with  a 


THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING.  301 

bridegroom  as  commandin'  as  a  spruce-tree,  with  a 
pair  of  eagle  eyes." 

"Dewdrop's  father's  been  snatched  off  with  a  ma- 
larial fever.  That's  the  bad  news  —  or  at  least  we 
oughter  think  so ;  though  he  warn't  no  ornament  ter 
Dewdrop  as  a  parient.  She  can't  be  livin'  down 
there  in  the  Injun  country  —  her  an'  them  two 
children  an'  their  mother,  with  no  man  about  fer  a 
pertector,  Dr.  Whistler  writes ;  so  he's  a-goiri'  ter 
marry  her  an'  move  the  mother  an'  two  children  to 
a  cabin  on  his  place  clost  by  the  house  where  him 
an'  Dewdrop  are  a-goin'  ter  live,  as  happy,  as  you 
please.  I've  always  reckoned  'twould  be  so  some- 
time. That  match  was  made  in  Heaven,  fer  the 
special  benefit  of  them  two  lonesome  souls  that's 
puttin'  in  their  best  licks  scratchin'  up  top  furrows 
in  the  mission  sile.  I  only  wisht  I  was  as  lucky  as 
the  Doctor.  Sally,  look  a-here,"  he  added,  "you 
can  be  a  ban' some  young  bride  any  time  you  say 
the  word,  though  I  can't  be  a  bridegroom  as  com- 
mandin' as  a  spruce-tree,  with  a  pair  of  eagle  eyes. 
I'm  nothin'  but  a  lanky,  but  I'm  more  than  willin', 
if  you  will  take  up  with  me  fer  better  or  fer  wuss." 

"  Land  o'  massy,  hush  !  You'll  throw  me  inter 
fits,"  protested  Sally,  with  a  gasp  of  scared  delight. 
"  I've  been  a-dodgin'  you  fer  fourteen  year  or  more, 
an'  now  you've  spoke  up  plump  an'  darin',  right  out- 
door in  broad  daylight." 


302  PIOKEE    AND    HER    PEOPLE. 

"Daylight  or  darkness — one's  as  good  as  t'other 
fer  my  purpose,"  Ebenezer  said,  with  a  determined 
air.  "  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  be  kep'  upon  the  tenterhooks 
no  longer.  It's  high  time  that  I  was  balancin'  the 
scales  ter  weigh  my  fate." 

"  Yes,  'tis  —  no,  'tain't  —  good  land  !  I  do'  know 
what  ter  say.  I'm  staggered  by  the  sudden  shock, 
but  ef  you're  bound  ter  be  in  sech  a  rush  —  good 
gracious !  I  kin  smell  my  ginger  snaps  a-burnin'  in 
the  oven  !  "  And  away  flew  Sally,  leaving  Ebenezer's 
fate  still  trembling  in  the  balance. 

In  the  little  white  room  sat  Piokee,  struggling  to 
realize  that  what  she  had  so  nearly  wished  for  months 
before  had  come  to  pass,  and  she  was  fatherless. 

"  I  didn't  really  wish  it —  0,  no,  no  !  I  only  al- 
most wished  it  for  a  single  instant,"  she  remorsefully 
assured  herself,  while  tears  of  genuine  bereavement 
thickly  fell  on  Dr.  Whistler's  letter. 

"  Brave  little  heart,  your  mission  has  not  been  in 
vain,"  the  letter  said.  "  Your  father,  who  had  sent 
for  me  and  urged  me  not  to  leave  him  as  the  end 
drew  near,  expressed  an  interest  in  '  Piokee's  white 
Messiah,'  and  listened  closely  to  the  story  of  the 
Cross  which  I  explained  to  him  as  clearly  as  I  could, 
reading  simple  passages  from  Fauqua's  Bible.  He 
left  his  blessing  to  his  civilized  daughter  who  had 
won  his  gratitude  by  casting  in  her  lot  with  his  that 
she  might  seek  to  lead  him  to  a  higher  life, 


THE    DOUBLE   WEDDING.  303 

"  I  think  that  we  can  now  begin  to  call  Up  Adoni- 
ram  Judson.  The  little  fellow  showed  his  filial 
affection  and  undaunted  bravery  by  swimming  sev- 
eral streams  that  had  been  raised  beyond  their  banks 
by  heavy  showers,  coming  in  a  fearful  thunder  storm 
at  night  to  fetch  me  to  his  father,  of  whose  illness  I 
was  not  aware." 

And  so  the  tangled  skein,  as  it  related  to  Piokee's 
lot,  had  been  unwound,  and  she  was  thenceforth  to 
be  taken  care  of  by  her  wise,  strong  friend  and 
generous  co-worker  in  the  mission  field. 

The  five  allotments  had  been  chosen  early  in  the 
spring  on  land  adjoining  Dr.  Whistler's.  There  was 
a  roomy  cabin  he  had  built  for  tenants,  which  would 
make  a  comfortable  home  for  Fauqua  and  the  chil- 
dren, until  Adoniram  Judson  could  be  raised  and 
trained  to  farm  a  portion  of  the  family  acres. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  fear  for  you,  my  dear 
child,  and  I  gladly  send  you  back  to  work  among 
your  people  in  the  care  of  that  good  man,"  said 
Mamma  Prairie  as  she  helped  Piokee  to  put  on  a 
simple  white  gown  she  had  worn  the  year  before, 
which  they  had  lengthened  for  a  bridal  dress. 

"  It  seems  so  dream-like,  yet  so  real,"  rejoined 
Piokee,  while  she  softly  clasped  her  arms  about  her 
foster-mother's  neck.  "  How  glad  I  am  that  I  did 
not  refuse  to  go  with  father,  though  it  almost  broke 
my  heart  to  leave  this  lovely  home.  0,  dear,  dear 


304  PIOKEE   AND    HER   PEOPLE. 

Mamma  Prairie !  did  you  know  what  you  were  doing 
when  you  made  the  life  of  one  poor  little  girl  so 
happy  all  those  years  ?" 

"  And  it  will  still  be  happy,  dear,  in  the  devotion 
of  a  noble  man,  and  from  the  good  aocomplished  by 
self-sacrifice,"  said  Mamma  Prairie,  lovingly  return- 
ing the  caress. 

Priscilla  filled  the  parlors  with  a  wealth  of  roses, 
and  there  was  a  wedding  bell  of  prairie  flowers,  col- 
lected by  Bub  Merrill,  and  arranged  in  tasteful  shape 
by  Floy.  The  happy  Doctor  and  his  beautiful 
young  bride-elect  were  stationed  underneath  the 
wedding  bell,  and  Mr.  Winslow,  with  a  simple  cere- 
mony, made  them  man  and  wife. 

"  You  dearest  dear,  it's  too  romantic  to  believe, 
that  you  are  Mrs.  Dr.  Whistler,"  said  Floy,  as  she 
embraced  the  bride  at  the  conclusion  of  the  cere- 
mony. "  It  is  such  a  pity  Ellery  has  gone  back 
East.  It  would  delight  his  soul  to  be  here  to  con- 
gratulate Bright  Alfarata  and  her  chief." 

Throughout  the  preparations  for  Piokee's  marriage 
Sally  had  been  laboring  under  a  suppressed  excite- 
ment, of  whose  import  none  save  Ebenezer  had  the 
slightest  glimmer.  He  sustained  himself  with  reso- 
lute composure  at  the  wedding,  keeping  steady  and 
admiring  eyes  on  Sally,  who  was  in  a  festal  garb  of 
gaily  flowered  sateen,  with  an  immense  bouquet  of 
full-blown  crimson  roses  on  one  shoulder. 


THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING.  305 

There  were  no  developments  until  the  minister 
was  taking  his  departure  with  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters, when,  to  the  surprise  of  everybody,  Ebenezer 
firmly  took  the  arrn  of  Sally,  whom  by  dint  of  much 
maneuvering  he  had  kept  within  his  reach,  and 
marched  her  out  upon  the  doorstep  in  the  wake  of 
Mr.  Winslow. 

"  Jes'  hold  on  a  minute,  parson,"  he  requested. 
"  There's  another  little  knot  we'd  like  ter  hev  you 
tie  this  afternoon.  Miss  Spratt  an'  me  air  goin'  ter 
git  married  like  the  heft  o'  people,  ef  she  don't  back 
out  afore  you  git  ter  tie  the  knot.  You  needn't 
bother  ter  come  back  inter  the  house.  We'd  jest  as 
soon  be  married  on  a  doorstep  as  below  a  weddin' 
bell." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Bowers,  much  delighted 
that  her  pair  of  faithful  helpers  had  at  length  ar- 
rived at  a  felicitous  understanding.  "  You  must 
come  right  back  into  the  parlor  and  be  married  in 
good  style." 

It  took  some  managing  to  marshal  Sally  to  the 
proper  place  beneath  the  wedding  bell,  but  finally 
the  stand  was  made  and  the  minister  proceeded  with 
the  ceremony. 

Sally's  sole  response  to  the  momentous  question 
whether  she  did  take  this  man  for  better  or  for 
worse  was  a  bewildered  gasp  which  was  interpreted 
in  the  affirmative. 


306  PIOKEE   AND   HER   PEOPLE. 

"  You  could  knock  me  prostrate  with  a  feather," 
said  Aunt  Abigail  when  all  was  over.  "  Not  a  wed- 
ding garment  nor  a  mite  of  other  preparation  but 
ice  cream  and  cake.  It  doesn't  matter  quite  so 
much  for  Dewdrop,  as  she's  going  back  among  the 
aborigines,  but  how  that  crazy  Sally'll  face  the 
music  in  this  gaping  neighborhood  without  a  scrap 
of  wedding  finery,  is  more  than  I  can  prophesy." 


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